


One Mistake

by AstridEstelle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Draco Malfoy, Dragon Draco Malfoy, F/M, Jealous Harry Potter, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:40:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27736243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstridEstelle/pseuds/AstridEstelle
Summary: During the year of 1996, Voldemort makes a deadly mistake, murdering Draco Malfoy's mother in an attempt to speed the boy along. However that one murder proves to have astonishing ripple effects as Draco Malfoy decides that he will do everything and anything in his power to avenge his mother.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 117
Kudos: 345





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah this has been brewing in my head for a while here it is. 
> 
> Draco may be a bit ooc but in my defense, Rowling didn't really do much in regards to Slytherins besides say they're all ugly and stupid (like seriously there wasn't a single decent Slytherin. Slughorn doesn't count and neither does Regulus, I'm talking like a genuine good guy in Harry’s year) so technically all the Slytherins are OOC.

Draco let out a genuine chuckle, nudging Pansy with his elbow, “Oh come off it Parkinson.”

“What, I’m just saying I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“I mean she’s never said anything about her love life.”

“Pansy, Professor McGonagall is not a lesbian.”

Hand hidden in his robe, Draco instinctively clenched his hand around his wand, as he discreetly looked around the great hall. The necklace was due to get here today and then he could commence with the plan. He shoved a spoonful of porridge in his mouth, in lieu of answering Greg’s question.

Contrary to what people may believe Draco wasn’t an idiot, sure he didn’t think things through sometimes, but he knew coming back to Hogwarts, ignoring his friends and moping around, evidence or not, people would make a connection between him and a dead headmaster.

With that in mind he had thrown himself into his friendships and Quidditch doing his best to appear the ever-carefree student. Surprisingly his friendship with his other Slytherins had actually grown and became real and honest. It was that thought that had his leg vibrating underneath the table. Failure was not an option.

The Dark Lord may not have known about his burgeoning new friendships, but he already knew of a weakness in the relationship between him and his mother. Failure was not an option.

He was jerked out of his musings when a barn owl dropped a family box of chocolate on his plate. Draco frowned in confusion, that was odd usually his mother didn’t send him chocolates on any other day of the week beside Monday. What better way to start the week then by looking at one Draco Malfoy being given delicious sweets that no one else but him could afford.

“Oooh that’s twice in one week!” Goyle said, “Are you gonna open them?”

Draco yanked the box out of Crabbe’s wandering hands, “Why, so you vultures can attack?”

“Oh, come on Dray,” Parkinson nudged his arm, “I love the chocolate bombs.”

Draco rolled his eyes, sighing to himself, it was his own fault, he had more or less trained them into acting like rabid dogs whenever he got his sweets. Years of lording would do that to a person. Not that Draco wouldn’t share, he wasn’t as mean as everybody else thought or as he wanted…at least not to people he liked.

“Fine.” He opened the box, blinking as the world shifted to slow motion.

* * *

Dimly he could hear Pansy screaming beside him, Vincent and Greg retching in front of him, Blaise was saying something in his other ear. But still Draco couldn’t focus, staring in horror at the contents in the box, eyes sweeping from left to right, taking in the thin elegant fingers some of them still adored with jewels and rings, the bloody ears with delicate silver earrings still attached, and finally the beautiful delicate head of his mother, eyes closed in a peaceful sleep, face lax, blond hair splayed out behind her. She looked like an angel, a bloody corpse head of an angel. The worst part was the lack of smell, this kill, this murder had just happened.

Quick as a flash Draco whipped the cover back on, coming back to himself, it had felt like forever, but in reality, only a few seconds, maybe a bit longer judging by the looks on some of his classmates faces. Still the Slytherins wouldn’t tell anyone they never broadcasted their business, he grabbed the box, snatching himself out of his seat, as he made eye contact with Blaise, who nodded his head.

He only had a couple seconds to do this, before the Headmaster or Professor Snape came to see what the fuss was about. It wouldn’t be the proper pureblood funeral, but he was unlikely to get the rest of her body and he couldn’t risk anyone taking his last remains of hers, before he could give her the funeral she deserved.

With that in mind, he fled the great hall, making his way towards the Black Lake, before he stopped at the edge of it sitting down, as he cast a disillusionment charm on himself, as he slowly opened the box with trembling fingers. He could break down later, he wouldn’t get another chance.

* * *

Slowly and carefully, Draco removed all of his mother’s jewelry, thanking the heavens that it was dark already, at least this butchered ceremony would be somewhat acceptable. He wiped his face as a few tears escaped from his eyes, inwardly grimacing when felt sticky blood smear across his face. Casting an _incendio_ on the remaining fingers and ears, Draco pulled out his mother’s head staring at the peaceful expression, at least she hadn’t died in pain.

He hunched over box pulled under him, a whispered spell ignited her head on fire, as he pressed a kiss to his mother’s head, Draco took no mind of the fire slowly burning his hands. He had cast a weak _impervious_ enough to stop his hands from falling enough but not enough to stop the burns.

Draco sat there for what seemed like forever until slowly finally everything had turned to ash. Grabbing his wand, he swirled up the ashes, “ _non revertetur ad caelum_ ” watching the ashes be carried away from the wind, returning to the stars that had sought fit to grant her life.

Draco clenched his fists, not yet he could mourn soon but not yet. No one had come for him yet, so he knew the professors were somewhere still discussing what action to take which meant he had plenty of time to deal with the Slytherins.

That in mind, he got up trudging his way through the cold, as headed down to the dungeons the faces of a dozen Slytherins starting at him in various states of shock and horror when he entered, but Draco didn’t care, staring at his mother’s head something had snapped and broken.

He felt a burning rage shifting in his chest and all he wanted to do was scream until his throat gave out.

Draco paid them no mind, until he was in the center of the room staring them down. These thoughts all of these thoughts had been swirling through his mind ever since the Dark Lord returned. He was no fool all of Slytherin had doubts, no one had ever had the courage to voice them until now. Draco didn't consider himself particularly brave, but he loved his family, and he would make him pay. “The Dark Lord stands for pureblood supremacy, yet he murdered the woman with the purest blood in all of magical Britain. He claims to want what’s best for us, yet continues to torture us for the slightest disobedience.”

“But Draco,” Pansy whispered, “What about the mudbloods.”

“Who gives a damn about the mudbloods!” Draco shouted, “Do you honestly think their blood is gonna be any different than this.” He shouted holding up his own bloodied hands, “Think! Don’t parrot what your parents told you, really think, what difference does it make in the long run.”

Dozens of gasps were heard around the room, and Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes, all of Slytherin house wasn’t evil despite what people may have thought. Draco had just been the boldest of them all.

Blaise let out a shrug, “I’ve never cared one way or the other. In the muggle world some hate me for the color of my skin, after that I couldn’t find it in me to care anymore.”

“Skin color.” Vincent said, “That’s stupid.”

“Almost stupid as hating someone cause they’re a mudblood.”

“Call me a traitor if you must.” Draco said, “He has nothing on me anymore, not after he murdered my mother. I’m a Malfoy and regardless of how my father acts, I bow down to no one. Especially not one who rules through fear, every Slytherin knows, ruling through fear- “

“Is nothing compared to ruling through respect.” A first-year girl mumbled.

“Correct, only incompetents’ rule by fear, when you rule by fear you don’t truly have loyalty, someone is always read to usurp you. I will not blame you if you choose to distance yourself from me. But know this I will get my revenge.”

“Well torture and pain has never been my thing.” Pansy said with a delicate sniff.

Draco watched as one by one as most of the Slytherins renounced any plans to join the Dark Lord. Some were still keeping their options open, he knew, but at least he didn’t have to worry of the Dark Lord getting word of this, at least not yet.

“Surely you don’t plan on us joining Dumbledore.”

Draco snorted, “I don't trust that manipulative fool. He's just as prejudiced as the rest of them. I refuse to kill mudbloods for things out of their control. Blaise has just confirmed that muggles do the same, we are better than simple muggles. Just because I no longer wish to join the Dark Lord doesn’t mean we join Dumbledore. No, Slytherins will work in the shadows on our own as is our precedent. I will see to it that my mother is properly avenged." He paused, "I suppose it would benefit us to have Potter on our side.”

“Wait does this mean we can’t make fun of him anymore.” Daphne sat up, “Teasing Gryffindors does wonders for my stress.” She whipped around eyeballing Blaise, “Not one word.”

Blaise held up his hands in mock surrender, zipping his lips, as Draco sighed, “Maybe steer away from certain topics such as blood status and lack of parental figures...” He trailed off; fists clenched as the rest of the Slytherins fell silent.

“Draco.” A seventh year Slytherin piped up, “I wish it could’ve been under better circumstances, but thank you for speaking up.”

Draco nodded, “We’ll go over plans later. I’m sure our esteemed headmaster is expecting me.”

At that moment, the Slytherin door slid open, revealing Professor Snape. "Ah Mr. Malfoy, the headmaster would like to see you now.”

"Very well." Draco said, shifting on his heel and heading out the door.

"Mr. Malfoy." Professor Snape, said, "Might I suggest cleaning up a bit first.”

Draco paused, then shrugged, "What difference does it make?”

* * *

  
"Mr. Malfoy if you could please explain what exactly happened at dinner." Dumbledore said

"What's there to explain, somebody decided to send me parts of now dead mother.” Draco shrugged.

"Mr. Malfoy-"

"I assure you headmaster, even knowing who is responsible, there is nothing you can do, my mother is still dead! "Draco shouted. "She's dead and I don't-why would he?”

He trailed off, "Excuse me headmaster." He said leaving the headquarters.

Draco rushed out the headmaster’s office, composure slowly falling apart. His mother was dead. The one person who cared for him with no ulterior motive. The tears were flowing freely now, so much that he couldn’t see. He turned a corner bumping into another figure sending them both crashing to the floor.

"Malfoy!"

Draco wiped at his eyes, sneering at the bespectacled boy in front of him. "Potter."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, canon!Draco is a little bit more cowardly but that Draco didn't have his mother's head sent to him in a box so here we are. 
> 
> Also am I the only one who found it a little dumb that Draco was so obviously up to something, like quitting the quidditch team, skulking around, that literally screams sus activity. Like the best course of action is too look like there is nothing going on (this is why I'm a Slytherin boys and girls)
> 
> LMK what you think so far
> 
> If anyone wants to be my beta, I'd greatly appreciate it. As you may have noticed, description is my weakness it's all dialogue haha


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters will sometimes alternate between point of views for now. You can tell point of view based on first/last name usage and line breaks

“Walk much Potter.” He sneered

“What was in that box you got during dinner?” Harry rushed out.

It had been bothering him all night, he knew Malfoy was up to something, had known since that day in Diagon Alley. The reactions of the Slytherins during dinner had only confirmed it, the Slytherins never freaked out, maybe Malfoy being a death eater was too much for them to handle, bunch of hypocrites.

Whatever was in the box, Harry knew that Malfoy hadn’t planned on it, the sight of his face frozen in shock, had all but confirmed that, maybe one of his plots had gone wrong. Whatever it was Harry was determined to find out.

He hadn’t gotten a chance to chase after Malfoy like he wanted, after the incident in the great hall all students were confined to their houses for the night, Harry had just barely managed to sneak out, he really didn’t want to deal with Ron and Hermione’s musings, he was not obsessed with Malfoy.

“I’m sorry Potter, did you suddenly turn into a figure of authority.” Malfoy sneered as he stood up, “No, I didn’t think so. So please explain to me why you’re demanding answers from me like you are one?”

Harry turned red at Malfoy’s comment, he did feel a little silly ordering Malfoy around like that. Like Malfoy would listen to him, if Malfoy still had the box on him it would’ve been easier to steal it from him and check for himself.

“Well Potter?” Malfoy sighed

Harry sighed standing up as well, catching a glimpse of Malfoy’s face, “Is that blood?”

Sure enough there were streaks of blood covering Malfoy’s face, Harry wracked his gaze across the other boy, spotting red marks in his hair and hands and part of his robes. Even his lips looked bruised and red.

“Why are you covered in blood,” Harry said, whipping his wand out, “What did you do? I told Ron and Hermione you were a deatheater.”

Malfoy snorted, rolling his eyes, “You’ve got quite the imagination, do you think our idiot headmaster would seriously let a deatheater into Hogwarts.”

Harry merely narrowed his eyes, “He let Snape stay, all you Slytherins are the same.”

“Oh, I’m sure every single Gryffindor is brave and just right, not like one of them ratted anyone out.” Malfoy smirked.

“Shut up Malfoy.” Harry snapped, rankled at the truth in the other boy’s word, Malfoy was right, Pettigrew had been a Gryffindor and had ratted out his own parents.

“Potter!” Snape said striding down the hallway, “Put your wand away before I have you expelled!”

“But-“

“Now! Fifty points from Gryffindor for accosting a fellow student. And another fifty points for being out of the dorms. I do recall all students being confined to their rooms.”

“Malfoy’s out too.”

“Malfoy has just gotten back from a meeting with the headmaster. The same can’t be said for you. Now normally I would love to escort you back to Gryffindor tower myself, but I need to speak with Mr. Malfoy here. Get back to the tower and that’s another fifty points for arguing.”

Harry bit his lip, fighting the urge to make a snappy comeback, the Gryffindors would kill him if he lost 200 house points.

He glanced at Malfoy who funny enough didn’t seem all that amused by the circumstances, instead he seemed exhausted and downtrodden.

Harry turned away heading back down the corner he went to before hiding in a hidden alcove behind a suit of armor watching as Malfoy and Snape started walking down the hall.

“So, what exactly did you have to say to me, that hasn’t been already said.”

“Wait.” Snape said pulling out his wand, “ _Accio_ Potter’s invisibility cloak!”

Nothing came forward and Harry thanked the stars, that he had the foresight to leave it alone. For once choosing to rely on the map and his own hiding skills something of which he had plenty from his days with the Dursleys.

Snape let out a heavy sigh turning to Malfoy with a shameful look upon his face, “Mr. Malfoy, it is with deep regret I express my sympathies over your loss.”

Loss? Was that why Malfoy was covered in blood. Did a pet owl of his die or something, did Malfoy even have a pet owl?

Malfoy shrugged, “Why it’s not like you killed her.”

Snape took in a deep breath, “I just as well have.”

At that Malfoy’s head whipped up, glaring at Snape, “What did you do?”

“Your task, I was required to provide an update. You have to understand that from my stance it didn’t look like you were all that concerned.”

“Of course, it didn’t!” Malfoy shouted, “My father is a deatheater, why would I make it that much obvious by lurking around the castle. I had a plan!”

Snape swallowed, “Be that it may, when I made my report, I commented on your laissez faire disposition. I was unaware of any plans you had and told him so.”

“Ok. What does that have to do…” He trailed off staring at Snape with growing anger, “You- “

Snape interrupted him, “Based on my intellect he decided to you needed a punishment for your failure.”

“Except I didn’t even get the chance to fail! This is all your fault!”

“Mr. Malfoy, I understand- “

“You got her killed, you murdered my mother!”

Harry let out a loud gasp, as Snape turned his head only to be caught off guard when Malfoy punched him in the face, dropping him to the floor. Harry watched in shock and horror as Malfoy lunged at Snape, repeatedly punching him in the face, “You killed her!”

Harry regained control of his feet, grabbing onto Malfoy and pulling him away from where Snape was sprawled out on the floor. Malfoy failed around in his arms still trying to get Snape, as the older man stood up cradling his bruised face,

“Potter.” Snape spat out.

“Not now, professor!” Harry grunted, “I think you’d better go.”

Snape paused, nodding suddenly as he sprinted down the hallway.

“Let go of me!” Malfoy shouted.

“Malfoy calm down.” Harry said, tightening his grip on the other boy, never in his life had he been so thankful for Malfoy’s lanky form.

Malfoy continued to struggle, so much now that both boys ended up crashing on the floor with a loud bang. Harry shifted his weight realizing that his arms were still wrapped around Malfoy’s waist, the other boy no longer fighting to be released but trembling instead.

“Malfoy.” Harry said

The other gasped and whimpered before he slowly broke down, into loud undignified sobs.

Harry froze, eyes wide, he hated being around crying girls and Malfoy wasn’t any different. He swallowed nervously hoping he wouldn’t get hexed before gently wrapping his arms around Malfoy’s quivering form ignoring the fact that said boy was firmly sequestered in his lap.

“Malfoy what’s-what’s wrong.”

“He killed my mother. The Dark Lord murdered my mother and sent her head to me in a box.” Malfoy spat out, “And I-I.” He paused, before he broke into sobs again.

Harry said nothing, merely tightening his arms around the other boy, as Malfoy broke down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still looking for a beta.
> 
> Again sorry if you feel Draco is OOC but he did get his mother's head sent to him in a box, so you know he's kind of snapped at the moment.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's me throwing as many of my favorite tropes into one story as I can. I'm literally making this up on the fly so if anyone would like to help me brainstorm and beta I'd appreciate it. 
> 
> P.S Ron and his big brother instincts needs more representation.

Harry looked up when Malfoy sniffled in his sleep, eyebrows furrowing, he was about to wake up then. The other boy had more or less cried himself to sleep in Harry’s lap, and Harry hadn’t known what else to do besides carry the boy up to the Room of Requirement.

His cheeks burned bright red, thankful that he hadn’t ran into anybody while he was carrying Malfoy like a bride. It was a testimony to how exhausted Malfoy was that he had slept through the whole night.

Harry supposed he could’ve just dropped him off and left but he wanted answers. Malfoy had said Voldemort had killed his mother and sent her head-Harry shook his head, Malfoy was probably just exaggerating as he always did.

Malfoy let a small yawn, rubbing his eyes and Harry couldn’t help but roll his eyes, of course Malfoy had to look good-looking even while he woke up, unlike normal people.

His face was still flushed with sleep, hair mussed in every direction, he looked like a bloody doll, emphasis on the blood, his hands were covered in dried blood and burned, his lips were still bruised and now that it was daylight, they looked a little burnt. Harry shook his head he would get his answers soon enough.

Malfoy noticed him immediately, eyes narrowing on him, “Where am I?”

“The Room of Requirement. I brought you here after you cried yourself to sleep in my arms.” Harry smirked, enjoying the way Malfoy’s cheeks turned bright red.

“Yes well, when you find out a beloved family member was murdered…” Malfoy trailed off, sitting up and clutching his knees to his chest, hands twitching.

Harry scoffed, causing Malfoy’s head to whip back at him.

"What I'm supposed to feel sorry for you. If I remember correctly, it was your mother who got Sirius killed."

He ignored the small part of his mind reminding him that he was just as responsible for Sirius’ death as Narcissa Malfoy. If he hadn’t…no the only one responsible was Voldemort. Without Voldemort...he was jerked out his thoughts by Malfoy’s drawl.

“I didn’t ask, nor do I want your sympathy.” Malfoy sneered "Besides regardless of my mother, you’re the one who fell for such an obvious trap."

"Yeah.” Harry glared, “Well it was your parents who lined up with a sociopath which resulted in your father being in Azkaban and your mother being killed. It’s their own faults. And according to Snape it’s also your fault.”

"Shut the fuck up Potter."

“What? Does the truth hurt? You know it’s funny, almost ironic really, your mother would still be alive, if you and your family hadn’t been a bunch of racist assholes who aligned themselves with a sociopath.” Harry said gleefully, “If you hadn’t wanted to follow in daddy’s footsteps and be a little deatheater. It’s almost karmic retribution, your mother gets my godfather killed and Voldemort killed her anyway. Guess the hypocrite didn’t care much about blood purity-”

“Screw you Potter!” Malfoy screeched, shoving past him and exiting the room, but not before Harry got a glimpse of the tears welling up in his grey eyes.

Immediately, Harry felt like the world’s biggest prick. He had just made fun of Malfoy’s recently murdered mother. He wasn’t like that. Sure, maybe the Malfoys had brought on themselves, but he didn’t have to rub it in. He was better than that.

It was just the thought of Malfoy expecting Harry to feel sorry for him after what happened to Sirius...except Malfoy hadn’t asked for sympathy or pity. Harry had just assumed. At least Sirius hadn’t been beheaded and sent to him a box. Fuck, he might have to apologize to Malfoy.

Harry sighed, he didn’t like Malfoy, but he had lost his mother, had her head sent to him in a box. Maybe Harry could’ve been a bit more tactful, he’d had made Malfoy cry again, but even though he tried to hide it Harry had seen the way his grey eyes had shimmered with unshed tears and he felt like shit. He was supposed to be better than Malfoy. Harry rubbed at his face, he’d better go back to Ron and Hermione before they freaked out.

* * *

“Harry, where were you?” Hermione nagged him, as soon as he sat himself down at the Gryffindor table.

He had just enough time after Malfoy stormed off to take a quick shower and grab a bite to eat before classes started and Hermione was already on his case. He loved her he really did but sometimes she could be just a bit much.

“I was with Malfoy.” Harry swallowed around his glass of pumpkin juice.

“Malfoy!” Ron bit out around a mouthful of porridge, “Harry, the whole night! What were you doing?”

As his voice raised, a few of their yearmates turned to look at them and Harry scowled, face turning red, “Ron lower your voice! It wasn’t like that!”

“You know Harry,” Hermione swallowed, “If you did, if you were into boys-“

“Bloody hell, Hermione stop!” Harry said, cheeks bright red, “I’m not-” He lowered his voice, “Into guys, not that there’s anything wrong with it, but it’s not, I’m just not ok, and if I was, I could do a whole lot better than Malfoy.”

“I don’t know.” Ron shrugged, “He’s got that posh pretty boy look about him no? People like that.”

Both Harry and Hermione whipped around, staring at Ron in shock, until Hermione snickered, “Is there something you want to tell us?”

“What.” Ron said, “I’ve got eyes, don’t I? He’s pretty doesn’t change the fact that he’s a massive stuck-up git. Plus, Lavender and Pavarti are always going on about the aesthetic, I don’t get it really,” He took a large sip of juice, “Honestly Hermione you’re way prettier than that git.”

Harry watched as Hermione flushed, barely there spots of red appearing on her tan skin. “I agree. Way prettier than Malfoy.”

“Yes well.” Hermione smiled softly, “So why were you with him anyways.”

Harry immediately sobered up, as Malfoy’s tear-streaked face and bloody hands came back to him, “Err, well you know that box that he got yesterday.”

“Yes, was it an evil dark artifact after all.” She snarked.

Harry glowered at her, so he may have jumped the gun just a little bit he didn’t really need a reminder.

“Not exactly.”

“Really.”

“Look do you want to know or not.” Harry snapped; Hermione could be bloody well annoying when she was right.

“Hermione cut it out. You can’t really blame him for expecting the worst from Malfoy. His whole family is bad news.” 

Not his whole family, Harry thought. Sirius had been pretty great.

“It was his mother’s head. I think…I think Voldemort killed her.”

Ron turned green and Hermione’s hands flew to her mouth, “Voldemort, sent him his mother’s head in a box.” She whispered.

“That’s what he said, and he was all bloody when I saw him, and crying” Harry mumbled, “I don’t think he was lying.”

“That’s horrible.” Hermione said,

Ron nodded sagely, “I don’t even like the prat, but…” He trailed off sullenly, no doubt thinking of his own mother.

“That still doesn’t explain why you were out all night.” Hermione pointed out.

“Oh.” Harry frowned; he really didn’t want too but they’d nag him till he confessed and proceeded to tell them the story.

“Wait, let me get this straight you carried Malfoy to the Room of Requirement in your arms.” Ron snickered.

Harry crossed his arms, “Look no need to make it bigger than it was alright.”

Ron held up his hands in defeat, “I’m just saying, I might’ve just left him there.”

“Oh, come off it, no you wouldn’t have.” Hermione smacked him, “Your brotherly instincts wouldn’t have let you.”

“Yeah whatever, still could’ve just levitated him.” Ron said.

Harry suddenly felt like the world’s biggest idiot, he easily could’ve levitated the git instead of carrying him in his arms.

“Still.” Ron continued, “Wish I could’ve been there to see him take on Snape, Malfoy’s always been a coward, I would’ve paid gold for that.”

Hermione bit her lip, “I still don’t understand why Voldemort would kill Malfoy’s mum. She’s a pureblood, isn’t she?”

Harry shrugged, “Who knows. Voldemort is a sociopathic hypocrite. Does it matter?”

Ron turned around looking at the Slytherin table. “I wonder where he is?”

Malfoy hadn’t shown up for breakfast and Harry couldn’t help but think that his harsh words in the Room of Requirement had something to do with it. Feeling guilty, he stood up, “I’m not hungry anymore. I’ll see you guys in class.” and left before they could get a word in.

* * *

Draco tilted his head back, slipping lower in the prefect’s bath. The water had since reached past boiling, not that he noticed, to him it was just the right temperature. He closed his eyes, the day’s events repeating through his mind.

He’d skip class that day and made his way to Hogsmeade, then Diagon Alley, visiting the Ministry and Gringotts. He was the last of the Black bloodline, not disowned, not dead, not a criminal and as such every single property and inheritance belonged to him now.

His parents, ever the Slytherins to the core, had every single property under his mother’s name. All the Malfoy vaults and fortunes under his mother’s name, despite getting off the first time, they’d felt it best to keep it under his mother’s name, so that in the off-chance Lucius was convicted their fortune wouldn’t be seized. He now owned all of both the Malfoy fortune and the Black fortune. Everything, and if the Dark Lord thought he’d be staying in his manor…

Draco boiled, the water getting hotter with his anger. He slunk down lower, until just his nose was above the steaming water. Nothing would ever be the same again. The first thing Draco had done was create separate vaults for his fellow Slytherins. Vaults that they could use to escape when the time came. Then he’d amassed his new house elves into getting safe houses ready. He’d made a promise to protect them and he would. If all else failed, his new magic would guarantee their safety.

The best thing was learning that as the new Black Heir, he’d gain access to the vaults of one Bellatrix Lestrange, her Black vault at least. He’d ordered the destruction of any dark magic. Magic so black and evil that it corrupted even from a distance. It’d been interesting to learn that there’d only been one such object in her vault. Something called a _horcrux_ , the goblins had informed him.

Draco resolved to look it up at a later point. It wasn’t high on his list of priorities. No, his priority was dealing with the new information, the new magic twisting in his veins. The magic that made it possible for him to sit in this water past boiling and not have his skin flayed to bits. The magic that allowed his burned hands and burned lips to heal within a night.

Draco didn’t want it, if he had to choose, if he had gotten to choose, he would’ve chosen his mother a million times over, but it was because of his mother that he had this new magic in the first place, his mother who would do anything to for him, anything just to _have_ him. He would honor her memory. He'd always idolized his father, but his father had gotten them into this mess in the first place, no, from now one he would honor his mother. Do things the way she would have. Strive to be the son _worth_ her sacrifice. 

He should really leave the prefects bathroom, but he knew just outside those doors, Dumbledore was waiting to expel him. He had left Hogwarts grounds without permission. A death eater’s son at that. How scandalous. The papers would be talking about his newfound inheritance tomorrow no doubt. After all there was only one reason for him to be taking control of their fortunes like this, it meant his mother was dead. Soon everyone in the wizarding world would know.

The Dark Lord, Draco snarled the water temperature rising, he’d never been good at controlling his anger, but now, now it was imperative. He could let no one find out. Not the Dark Lord, not Dumbledore, both would choose to exploit him. Harry Potter.

Draco sighed, he’d have to work with Harry Potter, the only place he hadn’t gotten control of was this place in London, Sirius Black despite being blasted off the tree, had laid claim to it, since nobody else had. Draco didn’t want it; he’d been there as a child and if it was anything like he’d remember it wasn’t worth a damn. He also wasn’t cruel enough to take the last memoriam Potter had of his godfather, maybe before, maybe last year, before his mother…

He clenched his hands, wincing at the nails, no, the claws digging into his skin, at least his mother could be properly avenged. He may not have asked for this, none of this, any of this, not this new magic, not the inheritance, but with it he could put things to right. The Dark Lord would perish, and Draco would be sure to make his death as agonizing, as demeaning, as ruthless, as he had no doubt made his mothers.

With that last thought, Draco leaned back closed his eyes, felt his magic shift and turn and change, and roared, a spiral of bright orange flames coming from his mouth, never ending until he submerged in the water as the flames were snuffed out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I the only person who thinks Hermione would have a harder time forgiving Draco than Ron. Like I'm a POC and I'd definitely struggle more forgiving someone who called me slurs compared to my white friend who only got his monetary status made fun or a race traitor (it's just as bad but still)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas who’s even reading this lmao. 
> 
> Ok would y’all rather have long chapters and slower updates or short chapters and faster updates.
> 
> So Draco uses mudbloods he’s not reform completely he still thinks he’s better but doesn’t think they should all be killed, plus he’s pissed at Voldy. We’ll go more into it in later chapters.

Draco stared at himself in the mirror, taking in the full pink pouty lips, the too big, too grey eyes, the slightly upturned nose, all the features he’d gotten from his mother. 

Sure from a distance he looked like his father, what with the pointed chin and platinum hair, but up close it was easy to see he was very much his mother’s son.

For years, he’d hated the androgynous features of his mother, citing them too girly, too feminine, but now they were all he had left to remind him of her.

He lifted one hand up, gently touching his newly pierced ears and winced, still sensitive. At least the blood had stopped. The silver flowers, narcissus hung softly, glittering in the light.

Some might call it a bit depraved, wearing the jewelry that had adorned his mother’s decapitated head, but Draco was no fool, he didn’t want to think about the state in which he would find the Manor, so he would take what he could get for now.

He clutched at the silver dragon at his neck, as tears welled up in his eyes. He’d never been one for jewelry but there was a first time for everything. The new family signets on his right hand had made that more than clear.

Draco closed his eyes, he’d be skipping breakfast today, not that it bothered him all that much, he really didn’t want to enter the great hall any time soon. No, right now he needed to get a letter sent to his father and inform him of the dealings before word got out and word would get out.

It wasn’t often that an underage wizard took control of their families dealings. In fact depending on the lineage it could be downright dangerous which was probably the reason why he felt so tired all the time. He just wanted to sleep, sleep and never wake up again.

No matter. Draco took one last look in the mirror, making sure he looked presentable and swept out the room, making his way to the owlery.

* * *

“Hello Perseus.” Draco smiled, holding out a hand, “You’re looking excellent today.” He stroked the soft brown feathers as his owl, snuggled into his neck.

That was a first, Perseus didn’t usually like to snuggle. He was jerked out of his musings as another bird, one Draco recognized as Potter’s flew down to join him on his shoulder, nudging at Perseus and Draco couldn’t help but grin, “I see you’ve found yourself a little girlfriend.” He scratched at Hedwig’s chin, “She’s a beauty, we Malfoy’s always did like the finer things in life.”

Hedwig seemed to preen settling back, as Perseus lifted his leg and Draco tied his note to it, “Post haste if you will. I’d rather father hear the news from me.”

Perseus cooed softly, nudging against him, then Hedwig once more before flying off into the morning light. Draco watched him go, cuddling with Hedwig for a few more minutes, before reluctantly parting, he skipped almost all his classes yesterday, and he didn’t think he’d get away with it two days in a row, not a Slytherin like him. If he was Potter, Dumbledore himself would give him the week off no doubt. Be that it may, he was not Potter, and he had Potions to attend to.

* * *

Harry couldn’t help but stare as Malfoy entered the room, eyes instinctively drawn to the new flower earrings dangling from his ears, and the silver dragon wrapped around his neck.

Since when had Malfoy worn jewelry, it was probably dark magic. His eyes narrowed focused on the dragon, the necklace was a bit tight against Malfoy’s throat, he swallowed heavily, feeling his own mouth dry up, as he continued to stare at Malfoy’ throat.Suddenly the room felt hot.

“Harry!”

“What?”

“You’re staring again.” Hermione hissed, “Merlin, it’s likeyour obsessed or something.”

“What I am not obsessed” Harry bit out, eyes still focused on Malfoy’s neck.

“You’re literally still staring at him.”

With difficulty, Harry ripped his eyes away from Malfoy’s throat, glaring at Hermione’s smug expression. Whatever response he had was stifled as Professor Slughorn clapped his hands together.

“After all your hard work trying to win the _Felix Felicis_ , congrats again Harry my boy.” Professor Slughorn beamed.

Harry stared steadily at the front, offering Professor Slughorn a small smile, ignoring Hermione’s glare, she was just bitter she hadn’t found the book first.

“I’ve decided to come up with a new year long curriculum project. At the end of class today, you will be put in pairs and tasked with coming up with your own potion. It’s a lot of work which is why it won’t be due until the end of year. The pair that actually creates a new potion or the most stable potion will be awarded a cauldron of whatever potion they so desire, nothing dangerous rest assured.” Professor Slughorn grinned.

Harry couldn’t help but tune him out, a whole year working on a project, for once he couldn’t help but hope he got paired with Malfoy. It would be that much easier to keep an eye on him. Unbidden his eyes strayed to the other boy, Malfoy was playing with the dragon necklace, twisting and turning it, cause slightly pink marks on his very pale throat...

He grunted at the sharp elbow thrown in his side and glared daggers at Hermione for once hoping he wouldn’t get paired up with her, he really didn’t need her nagging about Malfoy or the book.

Someone was calling his name, _repeatedly_ .

“What?” Harry shot up, smiling at Professor Slughorn, “Sorry sir, I - what?”

At that the classroom burst into giggles and Harry’s eyes found Malfoy awaiting the sharp jab usually thrown his way, only to be met with a single arched eyebrow.

Professor Slughorn said something else, and Harry winced, “What?”

At that, the classroom burst into laughter and Hermione gave him a look, while Ron guffawed behind him. Professor Slughorn’s smile turned slightly strained and Harry did his best to pay attention really he did, but Malfoy was smiling, looking out of the corner of his eye wasn’t the same thing as staring, and Malfoy never smiled. He watched as another Slytherin, Zabini he thought, leaned in closed whispering something in Malfoy’s ear, his pale cheeks turning pink and suddenly Harry wasn’t didn’t want Malfoy smiling anymore.

“What.” He bit out and frowned, sniffing “Why does it smell like green apples?” Harry questioned, he didn’t even like green apples.

Professor Slughorn shook his head, “ _Amortentia_ my dear boy. No wonder you were so out of it. What else do you smell Harry?”

Harry leaned closer, inhaling the wafs coming from the vial Slughorn held in his hand, “Erm green apples, treacle tart, and I don’t know something homey?“

That brought another round of giggles but Professor Slughorn paid them no mind, “Excellent, excellent!” He grinned, “Can anyone tell me what _Amortentia_ is?”

Hermione shot her hand up in the air and Professor Slughorn called on her with a smile, “Yes Ms. Granger.”

“The most powerful love potion in the world. Everything smells different according to the person.” Hermione answered.

“Wonderful, ten points to Gryffindor. Would you care to share with us what you smell?”

Hermione blushed, “I smell, freshly mowed grass, new parchment and um….” She trailed offand Professor Slughorn nodded knowingly.

“Ah young love.” Professor Slughorn nodded, “Not to worry. Now you will be brewing _Amortenita_ yourself. Unfortunately there will be no reward for the successful brewing of this potion, got to save it for the project reward you see.”

* * *

Draco made sure to keep his cool even when he was raging on the inside. How the hell did Potter make a perfect _Amortentia_? It made no sense, the boy was horrible at potions, had been for the past five years and all of a sudden he was gifted.

Draco didn’t even like potions, but he excelled at it and the only way Potter could manage to beat himself, the mudblood, and that Ravenclaw Goldstien, was if he was cheating. If Snape was, Draco paused at the train of thought, barely controlling the snarl in his throat.

Logically, deep down he knew that it wasn’t Snape’s fault, at least not all his fault, but Draco couldnt, wouldn’t, he huffed a small plume of smoke leaking his mouth as he shook his head. He didn’t want to think about it.

“Excellent job Harry!” Slughorn beamed, “A regular potions genius in the making.”

Potter smiled shyly, the tips of his ears turning red, and Draco rolled his eyes, of course Potter could cheat in class and get praised for it and Draco got looked like a deatheater in training even before he was actually _one_.

“Now onto the project.” Slughorn grinned.

Draco tuned him out, Slughorn had a tendency to go on long tangents before getting to the point. He played around with his necklace, staring at his completed potion. His had been just as good as Potter’s.

He inhaled softly, breathing in the the sweet smells of his mother’s perfume, the sweet smell of sugar quills and chocolate frogs, and a oddly musky fresh scent he couldn’t place that reminded him of Quidditch.

“Don’t you look pretty with your new necklace.” 

Draco rolled his eyes, feeling his cheeks heat up, that had been happening more and more lately. He needed to learn control over this, this new magic. He really didn’t need to go around blushing every time Blaise made a slightly dirty joke. He’d run out of blood actually needed to think.

A sudden outcry jerked him out of his musings. Everyone’s eyes were on him, and for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why. Just that he didn’t appreciate it. He turned to Blaise who jerked his head in another direction and Draco followed, eyes falling on a horrified looking Weasley.

Oh

_Oh_

“As I was saying there will be no changing of partners. I don’t want to hear any complaining. Remember this counts as part of your grade and is just an example of what your NEWTS will be like.” Slughorn continued. “I would suggest gettinghead start on your project. Class dismissed.”

There was a flurry of movement as students packed up, eager to get away from the all too tempting smells of Amortentia. Draco packed up as in a daze, becoming the head of two different households at such a young age would do that to a person. He was constantly tired, tuning in and out throughout the day, and though he’d only slept once since that morning, he couldn’t help but think there were many nightmares to come the next time he tried.

“Come on Draco.” Blaise grinned, wrapping an arm around him, “You need to eat, I know you skipped breakfast. Bloody hell, why are you so warm.”

Draco shrugged allowing Blaise to guide him to the great hall. A year ago he wouldn’t dare be seen in public like this, too busy trying to uphold the Malfoy image. He hadn’t hugged his mother in years and now he wouldn’t…never...he stopped throat heavy, feeling his eyes tear up.

“Draco.” Blaise frowned, “What’s wrong.”

“Malfoy! Malfoy!”

Draco looked up, spotting Potter and his pets barreling their way towards them and mentally braced himself for whatever comment they’d be making. Suddenly their rivalry didn’t seem all that important or worth it anymore.

Weasley paused in front of him, before grounding out, “Look I don’t like you and you don’t like me but unfortunately we have a project to do-”

“Ok.” Draco cut him off, he didn’t want to deal with Weasley right now, didn’t want to deal with anyone, all he wanted to do was be left alone and cry, cry until he couldn’t breathe and then maybe... “Meet me at the library after dinner.”

Weasley blinked, eyes scanning him before nodding, “Alright then, come on guys lunch’s not gonna eat itself.”

The three Gryffindors continued past him, Potter turning back one last time, glaring at him as Blaise whispered in his ear, “Are you ok?”

Draco watched them go, a cold feeling in his chest, something he hadn’t felt in a while, all he wanted to do was cry and never stop, he felt so empty, no he wasn’t ok, he would never be ok again, as childish as it sounded, he wanted his mother. He really wanted his mum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a semi outline of what I want to happen in this story but no clue how we’ll get there.
> 
> Anyone wanna be my beta?
> 
> Yeah so Sirius was blasted off the tree and most likely disowned, so how the hell did he get Grimmauld Place, plus he was a wanted criminal no way he was able to go to the bank and claim anything. It would’ve gone to Bellatrix and if not her cause you know criminal than Narcissa.
> 
> Narcissa leaves everything to Draco so yeah Draco is the Black heir in this universe.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll keep asking even if I never get one. Beta?
> 
> I don’t remember any lessons from HBP besides Potions, like at all. Is it just me?
> 
> Also next chapter will be a from a special point of view, any guesses?

Draco hadn’t thought he’d be able to handle being in the Great Hall let alone work up an appetite, but as soon as he was sitting down, it was like something had woken up, he couldn’t help but load up on as much food as he could. He hadn’t felt this hungry in forever.

Feelings eyes on him, he looked up finding his housemates staring at him in awe, Draco paused a forkful of chicken hovering at his mouth. “What?”

“It’s just we’ve never seen you eat so much before.” Pansy said.

Draco shrugged, “I’m just hungry.”

“Yeah, but that’s a lot of food.”

Draco looked down at his plate, it was true that he it was a lot more than he usually ate, but he didn’t think it was that big a deal. He’d just gotten some of everything and started eating, though looking at his plate now, he could see a lot of spicy food and meats.

Suddenly this didn’t feel like enough, what he really wanted was a nice bloody piece of steak, or a whole roast chicken, or spicy stew, really spicy stew, peppers even. He was jerked out of his musings as Perseus flew down, dropping a letter in his lap.

“Thanks boy.” Draco said, stroking his head and giving him a piece of meat.

Perseus cooed, ruffling his feathers and took off. Draco shifted in his seat, making sure his friends were probably occupied before opening up the letter, not that they would dare look over his shoulder. Not after...

No. Draco would not go down that thought process, steeling himself he opened the letter, watching as blood red letters begin to appear on the bottom. Blood magic was about as dark as it got and didn’t always require a wand. His father had written something in blood that he didn’t want anyone else to see, no one but his blood relatives would be able to read it.

_Dear Draco,_

_I thank you for informing me of your mother’s untimely demise. It is with my uttermost regret that I placed both your lives at risk. I should’ve have been a better man, a better father, I’ve realized now that I’ve let my family suffer for my own ambitions. It is with that, that I ask for your deepest apologies. I would understand if you were reluctant to forgive me, but in times like these we must remember to stick together._

Draco paused, heart pounding. His father never apologized. Too bad it was a little too late. How bittersweet. He continued reading, coming to the part written in blood.

_I must implore you to remain calm as you intake this new information. You see your name is more than a following of old traditions and customs. Your mother and I struggled immensely to have you. Your mother through ancient magic, seeked council with the dying form of the mother of dragons, through which all dragons come from and begged her for a child. For some reason Narcissa was granted this boon, not freely of course. As a boon of the mother of dragons, you are a dragon yourself. Make no mistake you are not an animagus. In all likely you are your own creature both dragon and human. As long as your mother lived, she embodied the spirit of the mother of dragons and your dragon form would be at peace. Without her presence you will find yourself out of sorts. I have faith in your ability to find a new method of control. As your father I’ll stand by your side, no matter your future decisions, though I implore your judgement in joining someone who could callously cut down a figure like Narcissa. Still, whatever decision you make I shall stand by your side._

_Best, Lucius._

Draco crumpled up the note, shoving it in his robes, mind wheeling.

Things suddenly began clicking into place. The way he used to follow his mother everywhere as a child, before shifting to his father. His hatred of the cold. The seemingly indestructible nails. Even his new symptoms the increased appetite, predilection for spicy foods and meat, how he always seemed to run hot.

He was a dragon some sort of creature. Was he even pureblooded? It was that thought, that had Draco laughing, ignoring the looks he got. His parents had embedded him pureblood superiority and there was a chance he wasn’t even a pureblood. How _ironic_.

“Draco are you okay?” Theo asked, “You’re kind or scaring me.”

Draco nodded, laughing some more. “I’m fine Theo, just a bit hysterical at having my whole life torn apart.”

“Okay?”

Theo was a great friend but a conversationalist he was not.

He waved Blaise off and went back to eating, lost in thought. What did his father mean by a new method of control? His mother had centered and calmed him, was he supposed to find someone, or would he just know?

He felt calm among his friends and wasn’t that a first. _Friends_. He actually had fiends. Draco had spent most of his years of Hogwarts bossing people around and only seeing them as connections to be used and he was sure they viewed him the same way.

Coming into sixth year he wasn’t sure his way of integrating himself with his peers would work but it had, almost too well. He could confidently call most of his yearmates friends if not acquaintances.

He’d known Pansy since birth and the two of them hadn’t treated each other all that great, now he could confidently call her his best friend. Draco couldn’t help but wonder how things would’ve gone down with Potter if he’d just been _nice_.

He looked up as a hushed whispering began spreading out. Eyes scanning the Slytherin table, his eyes fell on a copy of the Daily Prophet, Daphne Greengrass was holding.

He could already make out his name, in the front page, but it was the picture he focused on. It was a picture of his mother, an old one, she was smiling softly at something, a twinkle in her eyes, looking every bit the beautiful woman, he remembered her as. Draco knew without a doubt that though he couldn’t see it, she had been smiling at a child version of himself, a smile he’d never...

“Greengrass, Daphne. Can I-“

Daphne cut him off, placing the copy in his hand, “You can keep it.”

He nodded in thanks, clenching the newspaper like a lifeline, feeling the numerous eyes of students on his person and stood up, suddenly he wasn’t hungry anymore.

* * *

Draco was late to his next class though he tried not to be. He’d cut out the picture of his mother and folded it neatly into his robe pocket, it wasn’t quite the same. Still the point was Draco was few minutes late to his charms class which meant he had to deal with everyone’s eyes on him when he walked in.

“Mr. Malfoy! Glad you were able to make it. Grab a partner, we’re practicing _volitant_ charms.”

“I’ll partner with you Malfoy.”

Draco looked around making eye contact with a dark haired Ravenclaw with blue eyes, who shrugged. Pansy and Blaise were already paired up, as were Vincent and Greg and the rest of his Slytherin year mates. With a resigned sign Draco made his way over to the boy.

“I’m Kevin Entwhistle.”

Draco merely raised an eyebrow and said nothing as Kevin continued with a laugh, “I know, you’re probably thinking something along the lines of I didn’t ask, nor do I care.”

At that a small smile spread across his face, Draco had been thinking along those lines, “Well maybe just a bit.”

“Don’t worry. I just figured you should know my name since I already know yours.

“You and everybody else.”

“Well, I’m not surprised, I doubt I’m the only one who has a habit of knowing the names of boys they think are cute.”

Draco blushed, eyes widening, Entwhistle thought he was cute? Talk about unexpected. Draco couldn’t remember every saying a single word to the guy. Then again, he was used his share of admirers.

“What’s the inaction for charm are supposed to be practicing?” Draco said, ignoring his confession.

_“Ut Volitio.”_

The two of them practiced, as Draco took another look at the Ravenclaw boy. He was relatively tall, taller than Potter, but not as built. His hair was more wavy than messy, and he had dimples on his cheek whenever he smiled at Draco, which was a lot. He was also pretty tan compared to Draco’s own pale skin, not as tan as Potter though. Overall, he was pretty good looking. Still Draco wasn’t quite sure Entwhistle was for him.

Throughout the class Entwhistle, Draco refused to call him Kevin it’s not like they were friends or anything, continued to flirt with him and Draco lost count on how many times he’d blushed because of some stupid flirty comment, _damn_ his pale complexion.

“Malfoy, Entwhistle excellent form, ten points to Ravenclaw and Slytherin each.” Professor Filtwick beamed and turned to the rest of class, “That was excellent for today. I expect a 10-inch parchment on why this charm shouldn’t be attempted without a partner. Class dismissed.”

Draco packed up slowly, mind racing ahead, he could get to the library early and work on the assignment until Weasley showed up. He’d only told the boy after dinner, that could be at any time and knowing Weasley it’d probably be as late as possible, good thing they were both prefects.

A hand grabbed his wrist, and Draco spun around wand at the ready pointing at Entwhisle.

“Note to self, no touching, at least not without permission.” He winked.

Draco rolled his eyes, relaxing his grip and slowly putting his wand away, “What do you want?”

“I lost my father a couple years ago and if you ever want to talk, I’ll be there.” Kevin smiled showing off his dimples, he stroked Draco’s wrist with his thumb and let go turning away and heading back towards Ravenclaw tower.

Draco watched him go with a shake of his head, that boy was weird. _Talk._ As if that’s what Entwhistle really had in mind. Fixing his bag, he paused, he really didn’t want to go to the Great Hall. Not with all the gossip that and fake sympathies he’d no doubt garner.

He remembered Vincent or Greg going off about finding the kitchens one night, something about a pear near Hufflepuff Dorms. It was better than the stares that were sure to follow, if he went into the Great Hall.

Decisions made, he turned, faltering slightly when it looked like he was following after Entwhistle, Draco was a fast walker, and he didn’t want to look like he was chasing after the other boy, he _wasn’t,_ but he didn’t want to follow him either.

Entwhistle made the decision for him instead, turning around and grinning at him, “If you wanted to hang out with me so badly all you had to do was ask.”

“I’m not following you; we just so happen to be going in the same direction.” Draco snapped, inwardly wondering why he was allowing this, then again Entwhistle was a nice distraction. He’d be a lot better distraction if he was just a bit tanner and had messier hair, however.

“Then allow me to escort you.”

“An escort? What am I, a maiden?”

“Who am I to say? If the wand matches.”

“Fuck off.”

“We haven’t even gone on our first date, eager aren’t we?”

Draco sighed, looking up at Entwhistle with a heavy frown, he should really hex the boy and be done with it, that’s what his father would’ve done, but his mother, well his mother would’ve figured out a way to deal with Entwhistle and so would Draco.

If he could honor his mother in any way it was by being a powerful strong woman, err _man_ of society like she had, someone who carried themselves with poise and charm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop there it is. Yeah it was pretty obvious Draco was a dragon, practically no one uses it in fics and I wanted one so this fic exists now.
> 
> I love reading your comments seriously I start smiling like a lunatic everytime. 😁 Send me your theories and ideas some I may be able to incorporate. I'll also prob start replying now that I have more free time.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to write a long chapter as an apology for the somewhat late update but I didn't want so many switching POVS. However if yall are ok with switching POVS and longer chapters let me know.
> 
> Happy New Years, hope your country is doing better than mine.

Ron let out an annoyed sigh glancing at the dark window outside, trust Malfoy to be late. The worst part was that they had never even set a time, if he left and Malfoy showed up later…It was all Hermione’s fault, she was the one who had more or less forced him to go to the library after dinner, Ron hadn’t planned on coming till later, way later.

Harry had asked if Ron wanted him for company and he’d declined. Harry probably just wanted another excuse to spy on Malfoy, not that Malfoy wasn’t a suspicious character, but the way Harry went about it sometimes. Ron rolled his eyes just thinking about it. Contrary to popular belief, Ron wasn’t an idiot, he may not have been all obsessive over Malfoy like Harry was, but he’d kept an eye out for Malfoy for any suspicious activity, his father was a deatheater and had almost gotten Ginny killed. Who knew what Malfoy was capable of anyways?

He looked up spotting Malfoy walking in and sighed, here we go. “You’re late.”

“Sorry.” Malfoy bit out.

Ron gaped as Malfoy pulled out his materials and notes, Malfoy had actually apologized.

“Alright Weasley, do you have any ideas for the potion?”

Ron shrugged, he didn’t, he’d spent most of the time complaining about working with Malfoy.

Malfoy let out an annoyed sigh, “Why am I not surprised.”

“Well, then what say you?” Ron snapped, clenching his hand around his quill, god Malfoy was infuriating.

“A potion that renders one mute, until an antidote or spell is administered.”

Ron paused; mind running through the possibilities. If a potion like this was created, they could use it to stop information from being spread, but so could the deatheaters and he didn’t think the son of You-Know-Who’s right hand man was a safe person to make this potion with.

“Trust a Slytherin to want to make a potion like that.”

“Like what?” Malfoy narrowed his eyes.

“All sneaky and slimy.” Ron said, with a wave of his hand, “Like a snake.”

Malfoy glanced at him, “Yeah because all Slytherins are evil incarnate.”

“You haven’t done a good job proving you aren’t.” Ron shrugged.

“Oh please.” Malfoy snorted, “You all had us pegged as evil since our sorting. What difference does it make? I’ll be sure to remind the brand new Slytherin first years that they’re all evil.”

“Oh, come off it Malfoy. You know what I mean.” Ron said

“Do I? You lot like to preach goodness and fairness but you’re just as prejudiced as us, if not worse.” Malfoy snapped

“You’ve got a lot of nerve calling us prejudiced!” Ron shouted, face turning red. As if Malfoy had any nerve after all that he had said to Hermione.

Madame Prince shot him a warning look, and Ron quieted as Malfoy rolled his eyes.

“At least I don’t pretend not be, you guys go around pretending you’re not.”

“We do not.”

“Really. Imagine being sorted at eleven in Slytherin and instead of applause the rest of the school stays silent or boos at you.” Malfoy snapped, “I seem to recall your brothers doing a lot of hissing and booing.”

Ron flinched if slapped, eyes wide, his brothers had always booed during Slytherin sorting, they never meant any harm.

“It’s all-in good fun.” Ron said weakly, a vicious voice in the back of his head, reminding him that they’d transform his teddy bear into a spider in good fun too.

“Sure.” Malfoy snorted, “Even the professors are biased. Who’s first course of action when hearing there’s a troll in the dungeon is to send a house full of students back there.”

Ron bit his lip, the troll had been in the bathroom, but Malfoy didn’t know that, neither had Dumbledore at the time, why _were_ they sent back there?

“How about after getting on the fucking Quidditch team as a seeker, making it though brutal try outs, your father buys the team brooms as congratulation presents and some stupid bitch claims you bribed your way on when you still have the bruises from your bloody tryout.”

Ron opened his mouth to defend Hermione, but Malfoy steamrolled over him, body shaking.

“How about the whole school saying they can’t have a Slytherin be the Triwizard Tournament or every single fucking house booing you whenever your team manages a win during Quidditch. Try being eleven and having the House Cup torn from your hands for bullshit reasons you still don’t understand.”

Ron bit his lip, memories of his own discontent of the thought of having a Slytherin representative running through his mind.

“Malfoy-”

“Or finding out one of your housemates in a vanishing cabinet after he nearly fucking died.” Malfoy smiled nastily, “Your brothers would’ve made pretty good Slytherins if the only qualifications in your mind is being cruel.”

Ron swallowed heavily, Fred and George, they weren’t cruel, like Malfoy implied, not really. They hadn’t meant for Montague to –

“Whatever Malfoy you guys have brought that on yourself. If you Slytherins didn’t go around acting like evil incarnate.”

“Right the founders made four houses, brave, smart, loyal, and evil.” Malfoy growled out. “Fuck you Weasley.”

“No fuck you! You’ve been calling me a bloodtraitor and making fun of my family and friends since we first fucking met, excuse me for not feeling sorry for you!” Ron yelled back.

“Because you fucking started it Weasley!” Malfoy snarled, slamming his hands on the table.

At his yell, Madam Prince came rounding around the corner, “Ten points from Slytherin. If you’re going to yell in my library.“

Malfoy laughed hysterically, “Sure punish the Slytherin, it’s not like Weasley was fucking yelling too.” He ranted, shoving his papers and materials in his bag. “Fucking bullshit!”

Malfoy grabbed his bag, kicking a chair over on his way out.

“I shall be informing your head of house, detention! How dare you-“

“Oh, I fucking dare!” Malfoy shouted, “It doesn’t fucking matter! Inform whoever the fuck you want!”

Ron watched as Malfoy stormed out of the library, body shaking, smoke trailing behind him.

* * *

Draco wanted to scream; he was just so fucking angry. Bloody Weasley. Why had he even bothered, the rest of the world only saw them as evil, he could picture it not, helping them fight against the Dark Lord and still being treated like the scum of the earth. Was it even worth it?

He stormed down the halls of Hogwarts, a burning in his chest, it was way too hot, he needed to air, he needed-

“Draco?”

He whipped around, spotting Pansy rounding a corner, most likely coming from Prefect rounds.

“Not now.” Draco growled, brushing past her and making his way out the grounds, he couldn’t be here he needed, he couldn’t, he was losing control and fast.

Draco made his way to a clearing into the forbidden forest, body shaking. There was this prickling feeling, spreading just underneath the skin and Draco just couldn’t bare it.

He fell to the floor with a growl, clutching at the ground, as his nails lengthen and hardened, silver scales spreading out across his body, mouth lengthening, teeth sharpening.

Draco let out a little shake, flexing his new wings, he shifted his head, letting out a long stretch. His head hurt, he could remember being Draco Malfoy, but there was nothing connecting him to that. All he could focus on was the baser instincts, finding a place to sleep, something to eat, and someone to mate.

His vision was clearer, smell better, hearing sharper and it was with that Draco let out a growl turning around to face the wolf pack circling him. The wolf pack glanced at him and when Draco, sent one flying with the flick of his tail they departed, obviously knowing they were defeated.

Draco huffed, human mind, slowly falling away. He’d transformed with no connection, angry with the pressures he faced as a human, why should he bother with his human life. Dragon was all he was, all he needed.

A loud scream jerked him from his thoughts and Draco jolted upright, steam curling from his mouth. He _knew_ that scream, _liked_ that scream, the scream was _his_. Draco shook, spreading out his wings and taken flight something that came to him like instinct and followed after the scream.

He soared into another section of the forest, touching down, finding two students facing off against a troll. Draco let out a fierce roar, ramming into the troll and standing in front of the humans. He didn’t understand but the troll was encroaching on his property.

The troll lumbered up, eyeing the humans behind him before charging and Draco let out growl launching himself at the trolling, biting and clawing.

The troll managed to grab his tail, throwing him to the ground, and as Draco stood up shaking himself off, he saw the troll reaching for the humans, one of whom, let out a loud scream again and Draco jolted again.

That was Pansy! Pansy was his family! Draco growled wrapping his tail around the troll, and letting out a giant roar, a flume of orange flames engulfing the troll, who screamed out loud, moving around the forest.

Draco swept forward, curling around Pansy and…Blaise, wrapping himself around them as the troll flung itself around, spreading the fire before the troll collapsed. Draco swept up flapping his wings to get rid of the spreading forest fire before turning back to Pansy and Blaise who was staring at him in horror and fear, wand in hand.

Draco turned toward them, wrapping his tail around them, and bringing them closer, the forest wasn’t safe, why were they here? He turned to them, starting at them as he rested his head, on the floor.

“This isn’t happening, tell me this isn’t happening.” Blaise said.

“What do we do, what do we do?” Pansy screeched, “We can’t take on a dragon.”

“I mean it did protect us.”

“It probably just wants to eat us for himself!” Pansy shouted. “It probably ate Draco!”

Draco snorted, Pansy probably wouldn’t taste that good, way to leggy for his tastes, and Blaise ate like shit no matter what his body looked like, he probably tasted gross inside.

Pansy was starting to hyperventilate, and Blaise couldn’t calm her down, Draco shifted, mind racing, Pansy tended to get anxiety attacks at times, and it usually took both Draco and Blaise to calm her down, but he couldn’t calm her down like this.

Draco, opened his mouth ignoring their flinches, and licked a stripe up Pansy’s cheek.

“Blaise it just licked me!” Pansy gasped out, “It’s going to eat me.”

Draco inwardly frowned, he didn’t know how to change back, but he wanted Pansy to calm down, he moved, nuzzling up to Pansy.

“I think he likes you Pans.” Blaise said.

Pansy swallowed, stroking Draco on the head, “There, there big dragon, please don’t eat me.”

Draco leaned into the touch, as a warm feeling spread across his body. He was at peace at home, Blaise also reached out a hand to touch him and Draco closed his eyes, feeling his body relax and relax until…

“ _Draco_?”

He was back in his body it seemed, “Hi.”

“Why are you naked?”

Draco looked down, so he was, he hoped there was a way to keep his clothes on next time he turned into a dragon, otherwise this would be just embarrassing. Luckily both Pansy and Blaise had seen it all before, multiple times, since childhood.

“You tried to eat me!”

“I did not!”

After explaining to Pansy that he was not trying to eat her, then getting into an argument with her and Blaise about how that wasn’t an insult, he explained his dragon inheritance waiting patiently for their rejection, he wasn’t a pureblood after all.

“Draco, we literally almost got eaten by a troll looking for you in this bloody forest.” Blaise sighed, “Get over yourself.”

Draco grinned at them, pulling them both in for a hug and nuzzling into them, they’d risk life and limb for him, and if his eyes were a little _wet_ when he pulled back neither of them said anything.

“Great, your dragon blood keeps you warm, but you really need to cover up, unless you want to walk back exposing your bits to the world.”

It was an interesting situation, no one in Slytherin wore their robes outside of class, and Pansy didn’t wear hers during prefect duty if she could help it so they were only dressed in their shirts and trousers, or skirt in Pansy’s case.

Still, they’d managed. Neither of them were all that skilled in transfiguration, which meant that, Pansy had given Draco her skirt, to help him cover up, not that it did much considering how short her skirts were, the leggy bint.

Blaise in return had given Pansy his shirt, which she could use as a very short dress, Blaise was the tallest and the widest out of the group, however Draco was just tall enough that his shirt wouldn’t have covered much.

It was with that the three of them made their way out of the forest. A quick _tempu_ s had revealed it was just after midnight which meant they would make it back into the dorms with nobody being none the wiser hopefully.

Along the way out Draco couldn’t help but keep a firm grip on the two of them, rubbing himself on both of them, much like a pet would. He wanted everybody to know that they were his, he was the strongest creature in this forest, and it was a warning, no one would dare mess with something a dragon had claimed as its own. There was a reason dragons often had hoards of treasures.

They had finally reached the edge of the forest when a bright light was flashed in their face, and Draco grabbed Pansy’s and Blaise’s wrists, pulling them back, snarling as he took a step forward.

“Malfoy?”

The light faded revealing one confused Harry Potter.

“Potter?”

Draco let out a very put-upon sigh, Merlin help him, he did not have the energy to deal with this. Now that he was out of the forest and thus out of danger, the adrenaline had left him, and all Draco wanted to do was take a hot bath and cuddle with his friends.

“Are you in a _skirt_?” Potter blurted out.

* * *

Draco let out a little sigh, snuggling closer to his friends. Potter had mumbled out some weird nonsense about skirts and all but ran back to the Gryffindor Dorms. Draco didn't know what it was about and couldn't really find it himself to care.

Draco hadn’t really paid him much attention choosing to take the hottest shower possible, before dragging Pansy, Blaise and Theo into bed with him. Theo had been quite confused, but he was quite used to their actions, having been the voice of reason in all of their schemes growing up.

Draco couldn’t help but want his friends around him, after the incident in the Forbidden Forest he had been reluctant to let them out of their sight. Theo had been in the library and too far away for Pansy to drag to the Forbidden Forest, but it didn’t stop the rest of them from updating him on the situation.

Currently Draco was curled in the center of his bed, Theo on one side, Pansy on the other and Blaise behind her on an enlarged bed.

It was here that Draco could remember a reason why this was worth doing. Reasons to stay and fight and scheme and _win_. _Fuck_ Weasley, he’d make a potion and protect them and the rest of his Slytherins.

People he could protect, would protect, they were _his_. He couldn’t, hadn’t, been able to protect his mother, but he would protect his friends and make sure they stayed safe no matter what. He had the power to fight back now and if the Dark Lord had any thoughts, on taking what was his, Draco would _burn_ him alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright this chapter was sympathetic to Slytherins because let's be honest sometimes they got the short end of the stick, that being said, they aren't all innocent and next chapter will go into that and the pureblood politics. 
> 
> Ron totally started it, he laughed at Draco's name, he overreacted no doubt about that, but I'm a POC with a very ethnic name and if someone laughed at my name while I was introducing myself I'd be pissed too. 
> 
> Dragon Draco is here!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, those of us who've been bullied or called names, that shit stays with you, especially if it's in regards to unchangeable things, race, gender, sexuality. So yeah Hermione can excuse him being a dick but being purist is a diff matter. It'll take time. For some reason people always gloss over the apologies, like I love Draco but he called her slurs all day, like no we need to address it. 
> 
> I wrote a longer chapter to make up for the wait.

Draco wasn’t the Prince of Slytherin. He had no idea where that stupid rumor had even originated. Honestly, like a bunch of seventh year Slytherins would defer to an eleven-year-old who had cried the first night because he missed his mom _that_ much.

The Malfoy name did hold a light of sway, so no one would actually tease him about that particular incident besides his friends. That being said, the point was that he was not in charge no matter what people thought.

When an upper year Slytherin requested a meeting, everyone attended. The amount of time it took for the meeting to actually convene depended on how important the name. For some it took days, others weeks, maybe even months before everyone felt like actually coming all together. For others like himself, well it only took a couple of minutes, despite the fact that it was the middle of the night. Morning. Whatever.

Once everyone was finally settled, Draco sniffed delicately, recalling the way his father could demand respect, then recalling the way his mother would be _given_ respect.

“If the Dark Lord doesn’t care about pureblood superiority. Why should I? Why should we?”

Everyone stopped whispering at once, staring at him in shock. No one in Slytherin spoke out against the Dark Lord. It just wasn’t done. No one knew who was on whose side, so it was better to be safe than sorry. Self-preservation.

Lines were being drawn, it was one thing to say it when he was grieving and in pain, though he was sure some had known what was coming. It was another thing to say it three days later. He was more or less denouncing the Dark Lord. Soon enough the Dark Lord himself would hear of this if he hadn’t already.

“What are you trying to say, Malfoy?” Higgs sneered.

“You know exactly what I’m trying to say.” Draco responded, “Tell your master whatever you would like, but I bow down to no one.”

“Yeah, and look what it got you. Your father is in Azkaban and your mother is dead.”

Draco snarled, whipping a hand around and slamming the other boy into the wall, “If you value your life, you’ll keep my family out of your mouth.”

Higgs' eyes widened, staring at his hand, which was quickly hardening as silver scales broke out on the surface, his nails turning in to claws, pressing into his neck. 

Waiting for a response, Draco slowly gathered heat into his hand. Higgs winced at that, nodding frantically.

Draco moved back, watching dispassionately as Higgs dropped to the floor, scrambling back in fear, rubbing at his neck.

He turned to the rest of the Slytherins still standing, “Make no mistake, me renouncing the Dark Lord doesn’t mean I’m going soft. If you think you can get away with slandering or attacking anyone I deem mine, I will personally see to it that you’re incapable of basic motor functions ever again.”

Here he paused, smiling with his teeth, canines showing. “If you need protection, I will provide it, with some _stipulations_.”

Like he’d protect a group of Slytherins without having a back up plan.

He left the common room, making his way back to his own dorms, hands clenched in fists. Higgs had gotten lucky. Had they been alone, Draco might’ve done something more… _permanent_. He exhaled, steam flowing from his nostrils.

Draco entered, moving to sit on the edge of his bed before turning to stare at Vincent and Greg. Both of whom were looking at him with guilty expressions.

“Draco.”

“I know.”

And he did know. Their parents weren’t like his, he’d realized that a long time ago. His parents were the exception in their love, not the norm. Maybe it came from the fact that he was a gift from the Mother of Dragons herself, but other pureblood families did not typically love their children the way his parents had him.

Vincent and Greg could not afford to stand with him, not if they didn’t want to be punished. He honestly wasn’t quite sure they even wanted to stand with him. They hadn’t just been his bodyguards for the thrill of it. They wanted the power, probably because they lacked it themselves. If there was anything that proved the invalidity of pureblood supremacy, they were it. Not that they didn’t have their skills but...

“If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

The two boys nodded, exiting the dorm and Draco watched them go without a word. He had figured as much but it still hurt. They’d always been one to follow the crowd. Eventually they'd would come to him and Draco would keep them safe.

Pansy let out a small humming sound as she came into the room, taking a seat next to him, lowering his head and placing it in her lap as she began to drag her fingers through his hair.

“Are you going to be okay?”

“Mm.” Draco nodded, closing his eyes.

Blaise let out a sigh as he walked in followed by Theo. Draco heard him pacing about before he stepped forward with an inhale. “We need to apologize. Well, you two do.”

“What?” Draco blurted out, sitting up “You must be joking.”

“If someone here at Hogwarts called me slurs the way some muggles did, I’d curse you all to hell and back.” Blaise pointed out.

Theo let out a groan, “He’s right. You’re a bunch of hypocrites. Imagine if someone went around calling you guys faggots. You can’t help who you love, just like mud-err muggleborns can’t help their blood and Blaise can’t help his skin color.” 

Draco and Pansy couldn’t help but wince, both of them were engaged to each other and had yet to inform their parents. In Draco’s case his mother would never know now, and he couldn’t help being relieved he wouldn’t be disappointing her.

“You may have a point.”

“What’s the point of apologizing if we don’t mean it?” Pansy huffed.

“Well, that’s just it. Would you mean it?” Theo asked.

“Do we still think we’re better just because we’re purebloods?” Draco sighed, sitting up.

They were all sat in a circle on Draco’s bed, trying to figure things out.

“I only ever cared about blood traitors, but I guess that’s pretty much moot now.” Blaise shrugged.

“Longbottom’s a pureblood and he’s kind of pathetic. So are Crabbe and Goyle.” Draco said, “The less said about Potter and Granger the better.”

“You know if I really think on it,” Theo tapped his chin, “There’s only twenty-eight sacred families, if we’re all only marrying each other eventually we’d all be related and that’s kind of gross.”

“Fuck.” Draco buried his face in his hands. “How could we have been this blind?”

The four of them stared at each other. Each struggling to come to grips with the fact that they had been so _so_ wrong.

“We really do have to apologize.”

The four of them spent the rest of the night talking, going over grievances and regrets. Coming to the realization that no, being a pureblood didn’t make one superior. It helped that Blaise’s black widow mother had a tendency to traverse both the muggle and magical world in search of wealthy men.

Blaise’s experiences had left them in shock and shame. They had been no better than the muggles that hated on skin color. Muggles had their own problems over the same stupid reasons. Still muggles were doing just fine it seemed. 

Learning that muggles had actually been to the moon, was a shock all on its own, they’d done amazing things without magic. No wizard had ever been to the moon, and they had _brooms_. Talk about embarrassing

The only thing left to do, was to well, apologize and Pansy and Draco were not looking forward to it. Theo and Blaise hadn’t really done much both choosing to hang out with their fellow Slytherins instead of antagonizing others.

Pansy has been reluctant until Draco had pointed out them apologizing when others had not would make them look better in the long run and well, Pansy loved looking good.

* * *

“Granger can we talk to you…” He glanced at Weasley, “Privately.”

Granger paused, packing up her notes. She was usually the last one out the door during their prefects meeting and today was no exception. Usually, they were the first ones out the door but usually they weren’t apologizing for five years of bullying.

“You get one minute, and I swear, if you’re just going to insult me, I’m punching both of you in the face.” She snapped before turning to Weasley with a sweet smile, “Wait for me outside.”

Weasley nodded, glaring at both him and Pansy before leaving the room. Granger crossed her arms, wand sequestered in her right hand, not that Draco could blame her.

“Well?”

Pansy and Draco both exchanged nervous glances. In all honesty they hadn’t expected Granger to give them the time of day.

“Look if you-“

“I’m sorry!” Pansy blurted out.

“What?”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for making fun of your hair and your face and your heritage and I’m sorry. It was petty and wrong and I’m sorry.” Pansy said, “I’m sorry for going to Skeeter about you and making fun of you in general.”

Granger blinked and Draco cleared his throat, “I’m sorry too Granger. I was immature, stupid and downright nasty. I could blame it on not knowing any better but past the age of twelve it’s a pretty shit excuse. I knew better. I’m sorry for going to Skeeter about you and making fun of you and most of all I’m sorry for calling you…that word. It was horrible of me. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I do want you to know I’m sorry.”

He nodded at Pansy and the two of them both pulled out their apology gifts, holding them out. “I know it doesn’t make up for anything, but this is Ministry: The Origins, kind of like Hogwarts: A History, but the Ministry version.” Draco said holding out the thick book.

Pansy sniffed delicately, “And this is a bunch of makeup, creams, and perfume. Blaise always complains about how hard it is to find some that matches his skin or is beneficial for his skin when he’s up here, and well I figured you might have the same problem as well.”

Granger glanced at them, “Is this supposed to make up for six years of treating me like crap? Some pretty presents?”

“No.” Draco frowned, “It’s just a peace offering. We were horrible to you, I realize that now-“

“Do you?” Granger huffed, “Do you know what it’s like for somebody like me to grow up in England. I spent my primary years getting called slurs or getting into trouble because unlike when the other girls made sharp remarks, it wasn’t cute, I was sassy, rude, and mouthy.” 

She marched up to him, poking him in the chest, “I was so excited when I got my letter. Imagine my surprise, when I get here, and I’m still being called slurs for things out of my control. Except this time instead of skin color it was blood purity. You ruined this for me Malfoy.” She swallowed heavily, eyes welling up with tears, “You and all your purist asshole friends.”

“Granger, I’m so sorry, I don’t know-” Draco croaked out, throat dry.

“Pansy I forgive you. You were a real bitch, but I could be a bitch right back at you, so I’m sorry.” 

She gently took the package of cosmetics from her hand before turning to Draco, “I can forgive you for all the other shit, I probably did some stuff that I’m not proud of either so for that I apologize. But I don’t think I can just forgive you calling me a mudblood, practically calling for my death. Maybe first year, possibly second year, but now after five years?”

“Granger, I really am sorry.”

Granger sniffled, “Then show me. Show me you really mean it. Prove to me that you’ve actually changed, and I’ll forgive you. Until then, just leave me alone alright?” 

She turned on her heel and left wiping discreetly at her eyes, and Draco let out a sigh, falling into a chair, dropping his head in his hands.

“I’m a horrible person.”

“Draco, no you’re not. You just didn’t know any better.”

“Don’t make excuses for me. I knew well enough, no one else went around calling people mudbloods. Just me.”

“Oh Draco.”

* * *

Draco flipped through the large tome, pausing to jot down another protection spell. Snape hadn’t bothered to find him and inform him about what had happened the last time he was in the library. Then again, the last time he saw Snape, Draco had accosted him.

Draco wasn’t sure about that man. Anytime he thought about it, he just got mad. Either Snape was a spy for Dumbledore or he was a spy for the Dark Lord. It was for this reason Draco never went to Snape in the first place. He wasn’t sure which side the man was on, so it wasn’t worth the risk. Not that it mattered now.

His hand was cramping slightly, but he paid no mind. Taking the stick of his old blood pop out, he added it to the growing pile before popping a fresh one in his mouth.

After apologizing to Granger, he’d sent out a missives, apologizing to everyone else he had wronged. His in-person apologies were only reserved for four people, so he only had himself to thank for the cramping in his hand.

After the long list of apologies were sent out, he set to work looking up protection charms and spells. With his father in Azkaban, Draco couldn’t do much to protect him, not yet, but he could very well keep his friends safe and protected, as well as anyone else who wanted to be made safe.

Draco needed to start setting up wards at the safehouses, making potions and portkeys, learning more defensive magic, getting the deatheaters out of his home. Not to mention to better control his dragon magic in human form. He still hadn’t looked up anything about the Mother of Dragons yet. He was getting by a headache just _thinking_ about it.

“I’ve got something better you can suck on.”

Draco didn’t react. Okay he did, but it was not like he could control his cheeks heating up, it wasn’t his fault that he constantly ran hot now. 

He looked up, slowly dragging the blood pop from his mouth suggestively, eyebrow raising, as he stared up at one Kevin Entwhistle.

“Really.” Draco mused, pulling the blood pop from his lips and taking one long slow lick.

Entwhistle grunted, shifting his legs, as Draco dragged his fingers up his thigh.

Draco hummed, continuing to take slow licks of his blood pop, comtemplating. Entwhistle would be a good way to relive stress and he’d been rather lonely since he’d broken up with Pansy _and_ Blaise. 

Normally, he’d have checked out the background of whatever non-Slytherin he planned on sleeping with, but honestly there wasn’t enough time to do thorough research and he had bigger things to worry about.

“Alright then.” Draco stood up crunching his pop and cleaning everything up with a wave of his wand. He left the library, not bothering to check if Entwhistle was following. Draco already knew he _would_.

* * *

Draco ignored the looks thrown his way. He’d been given them all morning and he couldn’t care less. Last night had been _exhausting_ and he meant it in every form of the world. 

He’d spent the night staying up, testing out different protection charms and wards, finding enough objects to use as portkeys, and studying different wards and spells he could use on safe houses.

Not to mention his time with Entwhistle, which had been unexpected. Draco had fully expected to take the lead, only for Entwhistle to showcase a more aggressive bedroom style, not that Draco had minded, it was nice not to be the one in control, considering all the other things he had going on.

All this meant he’d woken up late, slumped over a desk in his dorm room and barely managed to slip a shirt over his head without being late to his first class. In his haste he’d forgotten his tie, hadn’t had time to brush his hair, nor the rest of his daily morning ritual.

So, he’d endured the looks stemming from his messy appearance with his head held high, he pressed down into his chair and immediately put his head down on the table.

Professor Binns never noticed and seeing as he had no friends in this class, not to mention having actually been taught the History of Magic from his parents like a proper pureblood, History of Magic quickly became the catch-up-on-other-work class. Or in this case, sleep.

* * *

“Malfoy!”

Draco shot up suddenly, a low growl in his throat, hackles raised, as he took in his surroundings.

“Sheesh, Malfoy calm down.”

Draco looked up to see Weasley and rubbed at an eye. Looking around people were leaving. It seems he had slept through class and he still felt as tired as ever.

“Look I’ve been thinking about what you said, about Slytherins and I still think you’re a slimy git but you’re right. Slytherin should’ve won the house cup first year, it makes no sense outside like five people. The rest of us shouldn’t automatically accuse you or go against you guys like that, first year Slytherins deserve to be happy with their new house the way the rest of us do.”

Draco blinked in disbelief. He had to be dreaming. No way was Weasley agreeing with him.

“Sometimes Slytherin does deserve it.” He pointed out.

Weasley just shrugged, “Maybe, but it’s not like any house is better. House Pride is one thing, stereotyping is another. He straightened up glaring at him, “That being said, you’re still a purist, classist, slimy git, just cause all of Slytherin doesn’t deserve it, doesn’t mean you don’t.”

Draco swallowed, dream or not Weasley had a point. Heck if it hadn’t been for him, maybe people would like Slytherin more.

“You’re right Weasley.” Draco stood up, “I’m a horrible person. Still, I’m trying to do better, and I’d like to apologize for all the insults I’ve thrown at you over the years. You didn’t deserve them. I have no right to talk about your family, background, or monetary status. I’ve sent letters to your twin brothers for what I said on the pitch last year. You have the right to ignore my apology. I just thought you should know.”

Weasley groaned, sliding a hand through his hair, “You just _had_ to apologize. Look Malfoy. I don’t like you and you don’t like me. That being said, sometimes I did start it and I’m sorry too. Besides I did make fun of your name when we first met.”

“Maybe, but I could’ve handled it better. A lot better.”

“Sure. We can go back and forth on this or we can just move on. We’re gonna be working on this project all year, we might as well call a truce.”

“Alright then.” Draco stood, packing up his supplies, “Don’t suppose you have a potion in mind?”

“Maybe one that will get rid of all the marks on your neck.” Weasley said.

“What marks on my neck?” Draco huffed, “Weasley this truce isn’t going to work out if you insist on acting like a dolt.”

Weasley paused, staring at him before a grin broke out, “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed?”

“What are you taking about?”

“Oh, this is too good.” Weasley smirked, “Follow me Malfoy.”

Draco rolled his eyes, following after the redheaded giant, as he led them to a boy’s bathroom. Truce or not this was just _weird_.

“If you needed to go, you could’ve have gone without me. I’m not your babysitter.” Draco huffed.

“Shut up and go take a look in the mirror why don’t you?” Weasley crossed his arms.

“I suppose I’ll humor you. In honor of our _truce_.” Draco said, walking in and making his way to the mirror, mouth dropping open in shock.

He looked like he’d been attacked by a vampire, his neck was littered in dark bruises, and combined with his unmade hair and missing tie, made it look like he’d just been shagged. No _wonder_ everyone had been staring at him today.

Entwhistle had probably done it on purpose, the bastard. He remembered Entwhistle nibbling at his neck but had been too lust-addled to think clearly. He’d been so far gone that for the briefest of seconds he even thought he saw Potter, and Draco was not ready to think about the _implications_ of that.

“I’m going to kill him!” Draco shouted, shoving out the door, striding past the door, “Meet me in the library after lunch.”

He didn’t bother waiting for a response.

Entwhistle was dead. This is why Draco didn’t sleep with commoners. Who did Entwhistle think he was?

* * *

Harry was having a crisis. Ever since that night he’d seen Malfoy in a skirt, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him.

Seeing the three very attractive Slytherins scantily clothed had shocked him to his core. His eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to Malfoy and the skirt. Along with those long toned pale legs...

Nope. Not going there. It was just weird, why had Malfoy been in a _skirt_?

Harry had only gone out there because Malfoy had been in the Forbidden Forest and he was trying to catch whatever deatheater activities he was up to.

Instead, it looked like the three Slytherins had just gotten back from a romp in the forest.

He’d stalked Malfoy all day and hadn’t seen anything interesting. Malfoy had spent most of his time flipping through random books and tomes.

No, he hadn’t seen anything until later that night. Malfoy’s dot had been precariously close to someone named Kevin Entwhistle. It could only be a deatheater. Harry had never heard of a Kevin Entwhistle.

Harry had grabbed his invisibility cloak and stalked down toward the dungeons, wand in one hand, map in the another.

Turning the corner, he’d found Malfoy being pinned to the wall, wrists held up above his head by Entwhistle, legs spread open as the other boy rubbed a knee between them. His other hand was creeping up Malfoy’s shirt, hiking it up and playing with a nipple. His mouth was mapping all over Malfoy’s neck and Harry had never seen the blonde so debauched. His cheeks were flushed, hair askew, lips pink and shiny.

Harry had accidentally lifted his cloak at the sight, his glasses were getting foggy and in that moment, Malfoy’s eyes had flown open. They’d made eye contact for the briefest of seconds, before Malfoy’s eyes rolled toward the back of his head, a high-pitched whine escaping his lips as he shook.

Harry had dropped his cloak in shock, taking a few steps back as before breaking out into a run back to Gryffindor’s tower.

He’d spelled his curtains closed before shoving a hand down his pants, thoughts of Ginny swirling in his head. That rapidly turned to Cho, then Cedric, and lastly Malfoy's head as it was thrown back in ecstasy, that loud whine emitting from his mouth, only Harry was the one to mouth at his neck, holding him down. It was that last thought of Malfoy that finally spilled him over the edge, arm thrown over his mouth to keep his dormmates from waking up. 

He’d fallen into a restless sleep, visions of Malfoy swirling in his head. It would’ve been fine if he hadn’t chosen to come to breakfast the next day looking so _debauched_.

Harry swallowed, throat suddenly dry as he took in Malfoy’s appearance.

His hair was a mess, tie missing, shirt askew but the biggest thing was the litter of hickeys covering his neck. Malfoy looked like a wreck and Harry wanted to..., well he wasn’t quite sure yet.

“Ugh, not the first thing I want to see in the morning. Right Harry?" Ron said nudging him, following his line of vision. "We get it you’re having sex.”

Harry coughed, thoughts of Malfoy and sex, swirling in his head, “Right,” Harry nodded, “Malfoy has sex.”

“Harry please stop.”

“You brought it up!”

“You’re going to apologize to him today.” Hermione asked.

“Yeah.” Ron shrugged, “I still think he’s a prat, but he did have some points.”

Ron had come back and told them what Malfoy had said during their meet-up in the library and they’d been ashamed to admit that the rich git had a point.

It was Hermione’s idea to apologize to him, on behalf of Gryffindor. Saying that it was time for a new start, Ron had protested and whined before eventually submitting.

“Oh.” Hermione blushed finally looking up and noticing him, “I’m surprised he didn’t use charms. You’d think… well it’s none of our business”

* * *

Harry was flipping through the Half Blood Prince's book, ignoring Hermione’s scowls when Ron burst through the portrait door.

“Guess what?” Ron blurred out

They were sequestered in a corner near a window. It wasn’t technically their spot but nobody else really tried to sit there if they weren’t there and Harry wasn't going to complain.

“Malfoy apologized to me.”

“Really?” Hermione said closing her book, sitting up.

“No way!” Harry protests, “Malfoy's too big of prick to apologize. What was he even apologizing for? Being a git since the day we met?”

“Err yes actually.”

“What?”

“He apologized for all the comments and insults. For everything. We even have a truce while we're working on the project.” Ron shrugged.”

“He really did it.” Hermione whispered.

“What?”

“Well,” Hermione started, “Ron, remember the other day when he and Parkinson asked to talk to me?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, he apologized to me too. I half-heartedly accepted it but I didn’t really take him seriously.”

“Wait.” Harry said. “He apologized to you too?”

Why hadn’t Malfoy apologized to _him_. He was the one Malfoy bothered the most. 

“Looks like it.”

“Doesn’t that seem suspicious? He’s a deatheater! He’s probably trying to get to me through you!”

“Harry you’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I?”

“Yes, he could be turning over a new leaf. Maybe Voldemort killing his mother made him realize things, shame it had to come to that.”

“Well, that’s what he gets for joining him in the first place.”

“Oh, stop it Harry. You don’t mean that.”

“Plus, if he were turning over a new leaf why wouldn’t he apologize to me first? I'm the one he harasses the most.”

“He’s got a point there 'Mione.” Ron said.

“Well, I’m not Malfoy. I don’t know what goes on in his head. He’s probably going to apologize to you last.”

“Yeah right. He's up it's something, I just know it. Malfoy wouldn’t sincerely applogize to us.”

“Did you say Malfoy apologized?” Neville asked, walking up to them.

“Yeah, he apologized to Ron and Hermione. Probably a plot or a prank or something.”

“I don’t know.” Neville shrugged, continuing past them, “He apologized to me too. Seemed pretty serious.”

“What?!” Harry shouted, turning to Ron and Hermione, “He’s doing it as part of a trick. Why would he apologize to everyone but me?”

“Harry you’ve got to stop with this plot thing. Malfoy is not a deatheater.” Hermione huffed.

He glared at her; how could she not notice. He’d spent the past six years watching Malfoy. Malfoy wasn’t acting like himself so what else could it possibly be?

“I don’t know about the deatheater thing, but he is gay.” Ron grinned.

“What?” Hermione gaped.

“How did you know that?”

Had Ron seen them? If so, had he seen Harry watching them with a -

“Cause I-wait how do you know?”

“I err, maybe saw him and his-err the other guy last night.” Harry could feel his cheeks turning red and looked away, not wanting to make eye contact.

“Harry, were you stalking him again?”

“It’s not stalking when’s he up to something.”

“That’s an invasion of privacy. Even if it is Malfoy, he has his right to his privacy.”

“His dad's a deatheater. Besides, Ron already knew.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t stalk him. All those hickeys on his neck and the guy didn’t even know they were there.” 

“How could he not know?” Harry squeaked out, before he flushed, Malfoy didn’t seem very aware of what had gone on last night.

“Heck if I know. But once I pointed them out, Malfoy stormed away talking about it how he was gonna kill him. Guess lover boy wasn’t supposed to leave marks.”

“I’m not surprised. The bruises looked like it hurt, or they took a while.” Hermione blushed, “Those bruises should’ve been a sign, girls aren’t usually as possessive I suppose.”

“Malfoys always been too pretty for a dude. Can’t say I’m all that surprised.”

“He is a bit dramatic.”

Harry frowned. Malfoy was definitely up to something. Being friendly to Ron and Hermione, making out with boys in the corridor. It was definitely deatheater activity.

Harry would just have to keep a closer eye on the git.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can someone pretty please draw Pansy, Draco and Blaise, all half naked and looking hot as hell with a nosebleeding Harry haha. I'll love you forever.
> 
> Ron always gives me the vibes that he can hold grudges forever but once he lets go, it's just gone completely. That's way he's so chill.
> 
> Any ideas on what their potion should be.
> 
> Things start picking up next chapter, fair warning.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. I was trying to upload the beta'd version and deleted the chapter instead. BRB crying. 
> 
> Anyways for new readers lmk what you think. This is my fave chapter so far.
> 
> Old readers feel free to rewrite your comments I’ll respond

Draco was pleasantly surprised, Weasley wasn’t all that bad. He was still uncouth and crude, but not everyone could be as well put together as himself.

Weasley was also smarter than he looked , having an unexpected eye for strategy .  Not to mention  that  although he couldn’t make the potions , Weasley had found it easy to remember the way different ingredients reacted with each other. They met up after their History of Magic block, seeing as both of them had a free period then.

Who would’ve guessed he’d be so _easy_ to get along with?

They’d decided to make a potion that would hopefully provide a small boost in power to whoever took it.

“Delawning gnomes.” Draco raised an eyebrow. “You’re having me on.”

“Nope.” Weasley grinned, “They bite too. What your family to proper to roll around in the dirt.”

“That sounds disgusting.”

“Malfoy you are such a prude. How do you even play Quidditch?”

“Excuse me. I’ll have you know-“

“Oh relax, you remind me of Crookshank. All stuck up and prissy and what not.”

Draco glared at Weasley and his wide grin and did the only thing he could think of - stick his tongue out.

“Real mature.” Weasley rolled his eyes

A voice cut in, “Knock, knock.”

Both he and Weasley looked up to spot Entwhistle at the door and Draco frowned in confusion. They hadn’t made plans had _they_?

“What are you doing here?”

“Can’t a bloke check in on his boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend? You’re not my boyfriend. How did you even find me here?”

They’d set up shop in an abandoned classroom on the third floor, in case of any potions accidents that might have needed to be contained. Ever since first year, most students tended to avoid this corridor.

“I have my ways. I’m Kevin Entwhistle, Draco’s boyfriend.”

“Err Ron Weasley, Malfoy’s...um-“

“Stop saying you’re my boyfriend, you’re not my boyfriend.”

“Aren’t I Draco?” Entwhistle purred, stroking a spot along his neck and Draco felt himself _melt_.

“Hmm okay.” Draco purred hazily.

“Um Malfoy, are you sure? Two seconds ago-.”

“Don’t worry Rob. Draco’s just prickly.”

“Ron.”

“That’s what I said. Anyways I’ll just be taking Draco here, you’ll have to finish up later.” Entwhistle snaked a hand around his shoulders

“Oi! We have a project! Malfoy you can’t just leave whenever you want!”

Draco blinked, staring at Entwhistle, “Weasley’s right I can’t-“

Entwhistle leaned closer, dragging a hand down his neck. “Rob doesn’t mind. Right Rob?”

“It’s Ronald not Robert.” Draco mumbled.

Weasley glanced at the two of them, eyes lingering on himself before, waving a hand at them. “Go, I guess. I don’t need to witness your mating rituals.”

“Huh?”

Entwhistle smirked, dragging Draco out of the room as he gave one last confused look at Weasley who was watching them go with a odd expression.

All matters of the incident soon vanished from his mind when he found himself on Entwhistle’s bed with the other boy sucking a very _sensitive_ spot on his neck.

* * *

“Finally.” Draco whispered, holding up the silver bracelet. It was plain looking and simple but hidden within the metal were a dozen protection charms and spells. The bracelet would block most spells, jinxes and hexes. Exceptionally strong curses and spells would be just be blocked once maybe twice, it was all he could manage. It also had a portkey to one of the many safe houses Draco had access too. The brilliant part was that once it was on, no one but the wearer would be able to notice it without a strong detection spell. Now he only had to make a _million_ more.

Still, this was a start. Now that he had made one, it would be easier to get make more. He twirled the bracelet, wondering who to gift it too. Blaise was moderately safe for now, no one, not even the Dark Lord himself wanted to get on the bad side, of his mother who was rumored to still play around with the voodoo magic of her culture. That left Theo or Pansy, and well the Dark Lord was just as misogynist as the rest of the Wizarding Britain so that left Theo.

He couldn’t go through with his plan properly if his friends weren’t protected. What he planned on doing was dangerous and risky, every instinct in his body was screaming not to do it, but if he didn’t there’d be no protecting those who needed protection.

Unlike the Gryffindors, Draco didn’t think everybody had to fight, not when the risk was death. He would protect those who didn’t want to fight, those like his mother who had been dragged into this against her will and murdered for _his_ incompetency.

Ignoring the growling in his stomach and the twitching in his eyes, Draco pulled out another silver bracelet, holding his wand in one hand, as he began the motions of the complicated of the protection charms and spells, weaving them into place. It was like putting a puzzle together, a puzzle composed of a series of knots that had to be interlaced without touching. The more spells and charms he put on them, the harder it got to weave them together, but Draco would not allow any more harm to come to those he cared about _never_ again.

* * *

“Draco.”

“Mhm.” Draco mumbled. Someone was shaking his shoulder and he desperately wanted them to go away.

He’d fallen asleep. That was not good, not that he was surprised- skipping meals, and pulling all-nighters to make plans certainlydidn’t make becoming the head of two households or dealing with the dragon magic any easier. He was constantly tired, but he didn’t have time to sleep. Not _yet_.

“What is all this? You missed dinner.”

“Busy.” Draco sat up, leaning sleepily on one hand, eyes still closed.

“Yeah, I see that? Doing what?”

He fumbled around, grabbing three bracelets and handing them out to Theo. “Put this on, give one to Pansy and Blaise.”

“I’m not really a jewelry person.”

“It’s not jewelry it’s protection. Don’t take it off.”

“Dray what are you planning?”

“Something dangerous and risky. I'll explain later.” Draco mumbled, grabbing five more bracelets and shoving them in his robes pocket. “What time is it?”

“Just after curfew.”

“Excellent.”

* * *

It had taken Draco almost an hour to convince Theo of his plan not that he was surprised, it was a risky plan. If anyone found out, well it wouldn’t be pretty, but Theo was extremely good at hiding in plain sight, so it was of little consequence that when Theo and Draco went up to the owlery to mail a late-night letter, only Draco Malfoy returned to the Slytherin Common Room.

Exchanging pleasantries with everyone before heading up for an early night, which given his messed up sleeping schedule was to be expected and when Theo came down an hour later, running into a few other late-night stragglers no one was all that surprised. The _perfect_ alibi.

* * *

It was interesting to note that as a dragon, he’d almost had a sixth sense of being able to tell where the location of his treasures were. His house, his family, his friends. All considered his treasures.

It was only a two-hour flight to get to Malfoy Manor from Hogwarts, Draco touched down on the outskirts, navigating through the gardens, the Dark Lord may have been in his house, but he would never be a Malfoy. It showed in the way, the grounds protected him, shielding him from the werewolves roaming around him. Werewolves on his property. He may not have thought them all unworthy but this pack, Greyback’s pack were certainly beneath him.

It amused him to see them sniff the air and tense, obviously smelling the creature within in. None of them made a move to find out where he was, or what he was, but they knew better to engage, they were no match for a dragon. He almost wanted them to try.

Draco made it to the back of the Manor with ease. He pricked his finger on the wall and drew a doorway with the blood, sneaking in through the old passageway.

He emerged in the dungeons and clung to the walls, as he made his way forward. He didn’t have his wand, too much of a risk, and he wasn’t quite sure how to keep it with him when he transformed.

Looking down, Draco remembered with a frown that he was naked and snapped his fingers as a house elf appeared.

“Young Master Draco mustn’t be here, it is not safe.” The house elf hissed out, eyes darting out nervously.

“Sunny.” Draco said, “I’m aware of the situation and I plan on rectifying it. I’m the master of this house now and I will be doing a cleanse. I need pants and you all better hide.”

Sunny looked at him, before nodding, and reappearing with a pants that Draco quickly put on, there was no time to waste.

Sunny had been his child nanny since birth and while he’d never treated the house elves as cruelly as his father, he hadn’t been very nice either. That was another apology to make if he got out of here alive.

So barefoot and shirtless, he continued up the dungeons. Pausing to stare at two slumped figures in some cages. Well, that put a damper on things.

Draco hadn’t expected anyone else besides deatheaters to be in the house. Moving forward he lowered to a crouch, “If you want to live, you’ll do exactly what I say.”

“Draco Malfoy, hawthorn wood and unicorn hair core, 10 inches.”

“Mr. Ollivander?" Draco gasped out, "What are you doing here?”

“Lord Voldemort is curious about his wand.”

“Can you really get us out?” Another figure asked coming closer to the bars.

Draco raised an eyebrow staring at Florean Fortescue in shock, what did the Dark Lord want with an ice cream man and a wand maker?

“Yes.”

At that moment there was a loud hiss, and Draco turned to see a giant snake lunging for him, and he jumped back, skin hardening into scales as the snake bit him. Draco growled, jaw unhinging sending a stream of fire at her. At once there was a loud scream and there was a loud alarm going off through the house. 

Turning back to the cell he stood up grabbing the bars. “Stand back.”

The two men stood back, and Draco closed his eyes, hands warming, feeling the metal heat up and melt. He bit his lip, holding back a scream, the fire may not have hurt his hands, but the melted metal certainly did.

Draco let go, hissing as he shook off the wet molten metal from his hands, “Stay behind me.”

The three of them made their way out of the dungeon, through another passageway, that led them out to the main parlor room.

“Mr. Malfoy I must implore you; we need to find an exit and quickly.”

Draco ignored them going up to the middle of the room, and slicing both wrists with a claw, usually it would’ve been a small pinprick on a finger, but he didn’t have time for that. As the blood touched the floor, it broke apart an altar rising up with two glass stalagmites on the side of each end.

“Do you remember my earlier instructions.” Draco said.

The two older man nodded, stepping behind him.

At the moment the door flew open a dozen spells being thrown their way and Draco shifted, wings flying out, and shielding the three of them from view. He grunted as their spells hit them, but didn’t move, tilting his wrists over the bottom of the stalagmites watching as blood slowly filled them from the bottom. It wasn’t fast enough.

Another spell hit his wing and Draco grunted, feeling a tear in one wing, and brought them back, shielding Ollivander and Fortescue from view instead.

 _Arce hostibus auferetur._ He chanted in his mind

“I’m very disappointed in you, young Draco.”

Draco said, nothing placing both hands over the stalagmites, body quivering. It took a lot of energy to keep his wings out, and not fully transform, and with the blood leaking from his wrists, he wasn’t doing so well.

_Socios in arce tutum_

“However, these wings are new. I could use that. If you repent now, I might be inclined to forgive you.”

_Ure sata et indignus_

Draco took a deep breath and slowly began pressing his hands down on the stalagmites, ignoring the pain, as blood began to drip. Slowly but surely small flames began to spread across the Manor. Some of the more fearful deatheaters had already apparated away, he could sense it. The ones who could recongize his intentions.

“Perhaps you need a little reminder of what happens when you disobey.” The Dark Lord sighed and motioned at a deatheater. “You’ll have to be punished for attempting to hurt my dear Nagini. Though I am surprised you’re still standing. Not many can take a shoulder full of venom.”

At that moment the deatheater came back with a bundled form, which the Dark Lord threw toward him with a wave of his wand and Draco stared in horror at the decaying, headless from of his mother.

“Lucius’ death shall be cleaner.”

Draco snarled, pressing his hands down, as the manor began to go up in flames, deatheaters, screaming as they found themselves being burned alive. Draco and his companions untouched.

“Get out!”

It was chaos, some deatheaters were still trying to sling spells, but Draco had his wings out protecting Ollivander and Fortescue and every spell that hit him, did minimal damage. They were idiots, dragon skin was virtually indestructible did they really think they could truly harm him? 

“Draco don’t do something you’ll regret. You really think you can get rid of me with some simple blood wards.”

_Me immundum munda omni domo mea, et succendatur, et possidebunt hostibus viveret._

Draco let out a scream, slamming his hands all the way down, head thrown back as fire raged around him. The Dark Lord let out a scream of his own as he found himself on fire. Slinging spells at Draco in a frenzy, but still Draco did not move, did not leave until the felt the presence of the Dark Lord and his followers were gone from his home.

“ _Salvos_ _nos fac Domime custodiat nos occultatum_ .” Draco whispered, before ripping his hands from the stalagmites with another scream and collapsing to the ground,  Ollivander and Fortescue both  fretting behind him but  too weak from torture to hold him up.

He’d done it. He’d change the wards of not just Malfoy Manor but every single house he owned. No one who sought him or anyone in the house harm would be able to enter. Every single house was currently on fire, burning out any negative energy or dark magic or _people_ if needed. He’d done it all and couldn’t even enjoy it.

“Sunny.”

“Sunny ” Draco called, face pressed against the floor. 

Sunny appeared staring at the room nervously . “Master Draco is too young to have done that.”

“I did what I had to do.” He gestured towards  Ollivander and Fortescue , ignoring the quiver in his limbs. “Heal them and get them settled. You two are guests in my home and the wards recognize that. If you’d like to get your families and bring them here before the Dark Lord and his followers recuperate, I suggest you do so .  Sunny will give you wands if needed. No harm will  come to anyone seeking sanctuary here and no one wishing to do harm will ever be able to find you.”

“Mr. Malfoy. You don’t sound like you’ll be staying.”

“I’ll be back. Mr.  Ollivander .” Draco gasped, as he struggled to stand up.

“Master Draco needs rest and healing.” Sunny shouted.

“I’ll be fine. If not, thank you for everything and I apologize for not being the nicest child to bring up.”

Draco shrugged off her tears of gratitude, making his way out the still burning house. He needed to get to Azkaban before the Dark Lord did. His father’s life depending on it, and for that Draco could ignore his own injuries.

Draco had never been to Azkaban himself but the dragon in him new exactly how to find his father and soon enough Draco had arrived. Azkaban. It looked like was under siege by the Dark Lord and his deatheaters. Apparently revenge triumphed getting their burns looked after.

Touching down in a broken cell, Draco hurriedly snagged a hair from a corpse, throwing it in the polyjuice potion he had grabbed en route and downing it all in go. Thankfully, the manor stored many potions already brewed and ready to go.

Once he was done here, he could catalog his injuries. Not stopping to see its results, he dashed off. He needed to find his father fast and Draco Malfoy could _not_ be here.

Ducking a random spell, Draco ran through the corridors of Azkaban wishing he had a wand, any wand. The dragon was leading him towards his father and didn’t quite pay attention the spells being slung all over the place. Draco did, he’d been hit by a multitude of spells and he still wasn’t quite sure what they were supposed to d o. A ll he knew was that if he stopped moving for a second, he  would feel the  ache  penetrate his bones.

Then he heard it, the screams of his father and Draco broke out into a run, slamming around the corner, and breathing out a weak plume of fire only for the Dark Lord to wave it away.

“Draco I’ve been expecting you.” The Dark Lord grinned.

“Draco.” His father croaked out.

“Your little fiasco at the Manor took a lot of you didn’t it?” The Dark Lord sighed, “Don’t you know better than starting a fight you can’t finish.”

Draco grunted as he found himself grabbed on both sides, and his lips curled in distaste smelling the scent of dirt and blood.

“Hello little dragon.” Greyback mumbled into his neck, Draco blinked, vision wavering, “The Dark Lord has plans for you.”

“Now Lucius were where we?” The Dark Lord smiled, “That’s right. _Crucio_.”

At his father’s screams, Draco began thrashing around, only to have his head thrown into the wall, and he dropped to the floor in a daze, breathing heavily.

“Don’t worry little Malfoy, you’ll get your turn. _Crucio_.”

Draco let out an undignified sob, as the _crucio_ hit him, he could feel every single injury and bruise opening up, it felt like someone had poured salt in the wounds.

“Please.” His father begged, “Don’t-“

“Ah Lucius, your sentimental values for your family was always a weakness. I have no intention of killing young Draco. You on the other hand-”

Through sheer force of will alone, Draco shifted, using one hand to bat Greyback away from him, and lunging in front of the Dark Lord with the largest flume of fire he’d seen escaping from his throat. It bought them the few seconds they needed.

“Draco.”

Nudging his father, Draco flexed his wings, if he changed back, he didn’t think he’d be able to change again and they needed to get out of here now.

“Got it.” His father nodded, before climbing on his back.

Draco lashed out with his tail, breaking the wall behind him and swooping into the air, ignoring the enraged screams of the Dark Lord behind him as they made their way back to Malfoy Manor.

* * *

Draco could feel himself crashing, as he made his way back towards the dungeons. Everything hurt, and he was so tired he could barely keep his eyes open.

After making it back to the Manor, his father had cast a glamour on him and shoved a bunch of potions down his throat. Anumbing potion; a rapid healing potion; and an adrenaline potion went down his throat before his father quickly sent him back toward Hogwarts. No one could know he’d been at Azkaban.

Even though the Dark Lord had repeatedly called his name, he’d been polyjuiced and it could be brought down to a conversation between him and his father.

His father had apparently brought back Theo’s father as well and Draco needed to make sure to tell the other boy about it. Theo’s father aside from Blaise’s mother was probably the few pureblood parents who actually cared about their children. After his mother had died his father had become extremely protective.

It was almost ironic that so many purebloods cared about blood superiority yet treated their children as little more than mini clones and breeding mules.

Draco let out another groan, as his head throbbed, he should’ve just stayed at the Room of Requirement, was it too late to go back? He’d stopped to remove the memory of all of the night’s events from his mind, except for some vital information and given it to Sunny to store. She had instructions on what to do with it, but he couldn’t remember what, he supposed that was the point. Then he’d taken another potion that was slowly but surely removing events of the last three hours from his mind, just as a precaution. The world was spinning, and everything hurt.

He stumbled a bit, and stopped leaning against the wall . H e wasn’t going to make it. But he was so close ! Draco groaned and tried to stand up, failing as his eyes began to close.

“Malfoy!”

Draco whipped around, newfound adrenaline running through is body.

“Potter. What are you doing out here?”

“What am I doing out here? You’re the deatheater, why are you skulking around wearing see-through shorts.”

Draco looked down at his pants, they were see-through because he hadn’t a wand and couldn’t make clothes from thin air so see-through shorts was the best he could do.

“I really don’t have time to deal with your delusions.”

Potter whipped out his wand pointing it at him, “You’re not going anywhere till I figure out what you’re up to.”

“God dammit Potter! I’m not up to anything except trying to go back to my dorm.” Draco snapped.

“Then why are you out of your dorms?”

“Why are _you_ out of your dorms.” Draco snarled. “Stop sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Potter glared at him, shoving him back into a wall, and Draco hissed gritting his teeth as his head hit the wall. He was way too tired for this. That last hit was about all he could take.

“I will find out what you’re up to Malfoy. I promise you that.”

Draco merely glanced at him, too tired to keep his eyes open and, dropped his head into Potter’s neck, breathing in deeply. Potter was so very warm, and Draco was cold, dragons weren’t supposed to be cold.

* * *

“What the fuck?” Harry said, “Malfoy get off me.”

Malfoy leaned back, tilting his head on the wall, “You smell good and you’re warm.”

Harry stared in shock at the Slytherin this had to be part of his plan. He moved his hand, only for Malfoy to start crumpling to the ground and hurriedly grabbed him again, holding him up.

“Malfoy what’s wrong with you?”

“Cold.” Malfoy muttered, “Sleepy, not supposed to be cold.”

Harry bit his lip, wondering what to do, he could take Malfoy to Madame Pomfrey but that would lead to questions as to what Harry was doing out of bed and he didn’t really want to deal with that. Besides it’s not like Dumbledore had believed his suspicions in the first place.

“Fuck.” Harry sighed, grabbing Malfoy around the waist, fighting the blush in his cheeks as he grasped at bare skin. He looped Malfoy’s other hand around his neck, as Malfoy nuzzled into him.

This was not how he planned this night going, he was supposed to finally confront Malfoy once and for all and figure out what was going on, Malfoy wasn’t supposed to show up in a pair of see-through shorts then pass out on him.

“Goddammit Malfoy.” Harry huffed, as helped the Slytherin to the dungeons no way would he make it there by himself. Another nuzzle against his neck distracted him.

“Malfoy would you stop?” Harry snapped, as the other boy kept trying to cuddle into him.

Malfoy pouted, looking at him through glazed eyes, “I’m cold.”

Harry bit back at groan, leaning Malfoy against the wall and rolling his eyes when the other boy started sliding down to the ground. He took off his outer robe and wrapped it around Malfoy helping him back up.

“Better your highness.”

Malfoy hummed in agreement, nosing on his neck again, what was with Malfoy and necks. _Nope,_ Harry swallowed, now was not the time to think about Malfoy and necks.

“It smells like you. Why do you smell so good?” Malfoy mumbled.

Harry shrugged half-heartedly, “I don’t know. Soap.”

The two of them made their way toward the dungeons before stopping in from of the Slytherin entrance.

“Alright Malfoy. Think you can handle it from here?” Harry said removing the other boy from his grasp.

He watched with dismay as the other boy merely slumped to the floor, curling up in his robe as if to sleep right there and inwardly cursed. He couldn’t just leave Malfoy out here. But it was one thing to enter the Slytherin common room under polyjuice and another as himself.

Harry drew out his wand casting a quick _tempus_ , it was 3:30 am in the morning, all of the Slytherins should be asleep, but just in case, he cast a quick disillusionment charm on himself and Malfoy.

It wouldn’t keep them entirely invisible but, in the darkness, it should be more than enough.

That thought in mind, Harry scooped up Malfoy who let out a little whine, causing his cock to twitch with interest as he recalled a previous wine and Harry shook his head. Bad thoughts lead to bad actions.

“Malfoy what’s the password?”

“Just walk in. Like Platform. For Slytherins.” He mumbled.

At least it would be easier to get in, however. However, “Just Slytherins, Malfoy what about me?”

“With me S'Fine.”

Harry took a deep breath, before walking through the wall with Malfoy, finding himself in the Slytherin common room. It hadn’t really changed much since second year, aside from the lack of password, though now he could make out the dorm rooms.

He dragged Malfoy towards the hallway, stopping in front of a door that said boys. There was no door handle and Harry assumed he was meant to just walk through like last time. Trust the Slytherins to be this excessive.

Through that door were a set of doors that were separated by year and Harry dragged Malfoy through that one and couldn’t help his snort. Of course, Malfoy got a whole room to himself, Harry mused as looked at the other doors one labeled Crabbe and Goyle and the other Zabini and Nott.

“Alright Malfoy.” Harry said, releasing him on the bed, only for Malfoy to grab his arm pulling him down on the bed.

“Cold.”

Harry laid there stiffly as Malfoy cuddled up to him and counted to three before turning to look at Malfoy only to find glazed eyes already on him. 

Malfoy smiled at him, before leaning in for a kiss that left Harry breathless. Malfoy nuzzled into his shoulder, “I like your new cologne Entwhistle.”

It felt like someone had just dropped a bucket of ice water on him. Malfoy thought he was kissing his boyfriend not Harry. He needed to get out of there before Malfoy actually woke up.

Harry laid there for the next ten minutes random facts rolling through his mind to make sure nothing untoward happened. Malfoy had buried his face in Harry’s neck, and he could feel the little breaths there as Malfoy slept, causing goosebumps. Malfoy’s leg was thrown over his own, and his cock was touching Harry’s thigh! Harry had taken to thinking about the Dursley’s to prevent any distractions of his own.

Harry shifted, very much aware of the body heat emitting from Malfoy’s sleeping form and after what felt like forever gently pried the sleeping boy away from him and stood up in bed. He should leave, he should definitely just leave, after everything that happened but this was probably his only chance to figure out what Malfoy was up to, and Malfoy was way too out of it to notice.

With that in mind, Harry peeked around the room, careful not to let his eyes stray to the splayed out blonde in his bed.

He stopped at Malfoy’s desk, staring at the bracelets in confusion. Why did Malfoy have so many silver bracelets, was it a deatheater thing? Did deatheaters have a strict accessory policy or something? He took one, shoving it into his robes hoping Malfoy wouldn’t notice, only for the rest of them to fall to the floor. Harry cursed and dashed for the door.

He didn’t stop running until he was comfortably hidden behind his awnings on his bed. Malfoy had kissed him, and that wasn’t even the worst part, Malfoy had kissed him, and he _liked_ it.

* * *

Malfoy looked terrible. Harry had actually come to breakfast early to avoid having to look at the git, every time he looked at Malfoy all he could think of was the kiss. The kiss that made him feel ashamed and guilty. Ashamed because it was Malfoy, a deatheater in the making and he had liked it and guilty because Malfoy had kissed him thinking it was someone else.

Yet his eyes couldn’t help but stray towards where Malfoy sat, head leaning on Parkinson’s shoulder as he silently dozed. Why bother coming to breakfast this early if you were that tired in the first place. Who _did_ that?

Malfoy had deep purple bags under his eyes, his hair looked limp and lifeless. He was wearing gloves on his hand and earlier, Harry had seen him shaking as he drank his tea. All in all, he looked surprisingly fragile. He’d never associate Malfoy with the word fragile but that was the best way to put it.

“Honestly Harry you need to get a new hobby. I can’t believe you dragged us here this early just to stare at Malfoy.” Ron huffed.

“I did not drag you here. You chose to follow me!” Harry whipped around, whispering defensively. “Secondly, I’m not staring and lastly even if I was, it’d be your own fault. You’re the one who refused to spy on Malfoy.”

“That’s cause there’s nothing to spy on.” Ron said.

It was a sore point . Harry , upon hearing that Ron and Malfoy were partners , had encouraged his friend to  take the chance and watch  the blonde only for Ron to wave him off.

Before Harry could respond there was a sharp inhale from Hermione, the two of them glanced at her as she shakily showed them the Daily Prophet.

_Mass Breakout at Azkaban_

_Recently captured deatheaters caught at the Department of Ministries last year have escaped. You-Know-Who was reportedly seen at Azkaban himself, and used a dragon to break out his loyal followers. Including but not limited to Thaddeus Nott, Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange-_

“Still think there’s nothing to spy on.” Harry snapped out.

He looked up glancing for Malfoy only to find him gone and stormed out the Great Hall not bothering to hear Ron’s reply

He couldn’t breathe, the woman who had killed Sirius was free and out in the world, and Malfoy....

Harry paused in an alcove taking out his map, he’d taken to carrying it everywhere to keep an eye on Malfoy. Ever since that one night where he’d seem to disappear from the map with his Slytherin friends.

_There._

Malfoy was on the third floor. Harry hurriedly shoved his way map away and launched up the stairs, Malfoy wasn’t getting away _this_ time.

* * *

This hadn’t been what he expected. Malfoy was curled in a ball, knees to his chest, face hidden in his hands.

“Malfoy?” Harry called out, one hand hovering over his wand.

Malfoy looked up at him, eyes glassy, “Of fucking course Potter, it’s always Potter.” He slurred.

“Are you drunk?”

“No, you imbecile. I am not drunk. Why on earth would I be drunk?”

“You’re the one slurring.”

Malfoy scowled at him, moving as if he was gonna stand up before, giving up, leaning his he’d back on the wall. “Fuck off Potter.”

“If you’re not drunk why are you slurring.”

“Too much Veritaserum.”

“Too much Veritaserum? The truth potion? Why are you-, how did that happen?”

“Stupid aurors. Showed up and drugged me in Dumbledore’s office. Cause I’m a suspect. Didn’t even do anything. Prejudiced assholes.”

“Dumbledore wouldn’t just let them drug you like that.”

Malfoy snorted. “Yes, he would. Dumbledore doesn’t care about anyone but his stupid little golden boy, and he certainly didn’t try very hard to stop them.”

“Fuck off, Malfoy.”

“You fuck off. I came here to be alone.”

Harry bit his lip, weighing the choices in his head. Malfoy was here high on truth serum. He could ask any question he wanted and get the truth. He couldn’t let an opportunity like this go to waste.

“So, you didn’t have anything to do with the breakout?”

“No. I didn’t even know till this morning. You’re asking me questions I came here so no one would ask me questions.” Malfoy shot up, over balancing and stumbling back down.

Harry ignored the heavy feeling of guilt in his stomach, they were at war, Bellatrix Lestrange was out, Sirius’ _killer_ was out. That hardened his resolved and he walked closer to the other boy.

“What have you been up to Malfoy?”

“Being drugged and questioned without my consent.” Malfoy glared or at least tried to; his eyes were all squinty.

“Not what I meant.” Harry paused, wracking his head around, Hermione had mentioned Veritaserum wasn’t infallible, Malfoy could give him whatever version of the truth he believed in. Harry would have to be more specific.

“Are you a deatheater?”

“No,” Malfoy said, before sighing, “But I was supposed to be.”

Before he could ask his follow up question, Malfoy righted himself, stumbling in his direction and tripping into him.

“You suck Potter.” Malfoy declared pointing at his chest, “And not in the fun way.”

At that, Harry went red, suddenly aware of how close they were with Malfoy leaning into him.

“You’re taking _advantage_ of me.”

“What! No, I’m not!” Harry shouted backing up, as the kiss replayed in his head.

“Yes, you are.” Malfoy said crossing his arm, “I was drugged against my will and you’re asking me questions. I don’t want to apologize to you anymore.”

“I-what. Apologize?”

“You’re the last one on my list.” Malfoy said, “I’ve apologized to everyone I was mean to. It’s a lot of work!” He threw his hands up, tripping and Harry moved forward to catch him. He felt his resolve crumble only guilt remaining.

“Malfoy why don’t I take you the hospital wing.”

Harry suddenly felt guilty, Malfoy obviously wasn’t in his right mind, stumbling around and talking about apologies and Harry had taken advantage of his weakened state. Hermione was right. Malfoy may have been up to something, but he deserved his privacy.

“No.” Malfoy looped his arms around Harry’s neck, leaning into him and Harry swallowed nervously.

“You can’t stay in the middle of the hallway.”

“You’re really annoying Potter, makes apologizing to you that much harder.”

“Well, you haven’t really apologized yet have you.” He snapped back, even drugged and clingy Malfoy was such a brat.

“I haven’t? Well, I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry.” Malfoy pulled back, looking up at him, “I shouldn’t have said the very rude things I said about your parents and the people you consider family. Or make fun of you for not having parents. I also shouldn’t make fun of your friends and try to get you in to trouble all the time. I’m really sorry Potter.” Malfoy said.

“Err.”

“I’d like to apologize for the comments I’ve made about your hair and your overall appearance. You’re pretty attractive even if you don’t know how to dress but I shouldn’t point out your lack of fashion skills, it’s rude.” Malfoy sniffed, “I just wanted to be your friend.”

“What’s going on here?” An amused voice said

Harry looked up, spotting Entwhistle and flushed heavily, as he imagined what the scene looked like to him. Malfoy was pretty much wrapped on his arms, they looked pretty cozy for two people who didn’t like each other.

“Nothing!”

“I apologized to Potter.” Malfoy said.”

“Nothing and apologies. You two look pretty comfortable.” Entwhistle grinned.

Malfoy tried to move away, only to stumble and Harry couldn’t help but tightened his grip, as he helped him walk over to Entwhistle, who merely raised an eyebrow.

Harry bit his lip surely Malfoy’s boyfriend would take care of him. He didn’t feel quite comfortable telling Entwhistle Malfoy had been dosed with Veritaserum but what other explanation was there for the scene he’d just walked in on? “He’s on Veritaserum. Apparently, some aurors questioned him.”

“Bastards.” Malfoy huffed out.

Entwhistle nodded, and Harry continued, “I was gonna take him to the hospital wing. I found him like this. It’s like he’s drunk or something.”

“Too much Veritaserum will do that to you. I’ll take it from here Potter. We don’t need the hospital wing.”

“Um ok.”

Harry watched as Entwhistle wrapped a possessive hand around Malfoy’s waist, another hand going around his neck and lifting his chin up pulling him for a drawn-out kiss that Malfoy dazedly returned.

He’d never seen Malfoy so compliant before, well that wasn’t _completely_ true he flushed, rendering the way Malfoy had been pinned to the wall...

“Problem Potter?”

Harry jolted realizing he had been watching the other boys kiss and shook his head, flushing. Entwhistle was staring at him with a knowing expression that he didn’t quite like.

“No. Sorry I’m just gonna-.” Harry gestured behind him

Entwhistle gave him a slow smirk, “You do that Potter.”

* * *

“First you’re mad he didn’t apologize to you and now you’re mad that he did,” Hermione sighed “Make up your mind.”

“Don’t you see? Why would be apologize to me? He hates me! It has to be part of a trick.”

He had updated Ron and Hermione on the incident with Malfoy leaving out the unnecessary parts. Like Entwhistle and Malfoy calling him attractive.

“Suppose it is a trick.” Ron said. “Now what? There’s nothing you can really do. He said he wasn’t a deatheater on Veritaserum.”

Harry paused at that; Malfoy had confessed to not being a  deatheater .  If one could call that a confession.  Still, he was up to something and Harry knew just how to find out. Malfoy had confessed to wanting to be his friend, and with his friendship Malfoy could gain the status he so desperately wanted.

Harry didn’t like all the fame that came with being the Chosen One but if it got him access to Malfoy’s plan, well , it was worth it. It’s what he should’ve done all along. The best way to deal with Malfoy had always been a head - on approach, none of this spying around. 

Tomorrow he’d finally figure out what Malfoy was up to once and for all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I could draw, imma gonna learn just so I can do fanart of my own fanfic, I really want to draw out the Draco at the alter scene.
> 
> My thought with Veritaserum is that it makes you tell the truth but you don't care about telling the truth. So like when you're drunk and just rambling. Too much makes you seem like you're actually drunk.
> 
> Explanations will be given next chapter for Draco's injuries and Draco's OOC moments.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. Anyways I've figured out a posting schedule, it'll be every one to two weeks on the weekends.
> 
> This is Draco's point of view from when he woke up after fighting Voldemort. How he got dosed with Vertiaserum and what happened after he left Harry.

_Pain._ That was the first thing Draco registered when he woke up. In fact, it had been the pain that had woken him up in the first place.

The next thing he became aware of was the slow numbing sensation of what felt like ice spreading through his veins. He was so cold it hurt, and in the back of his head, where his dragon resided, his baser instincts were screaming at him. He knew if he didn’t warm up soon, he would die.

 _Warmth._ There had been a presence, a warm presence but it was gone now. Maybe he had imagined it, but he missed it. Another shiver brought him back to the present. Now was not the time to fantasize about nonexistent warm essences.

Draco heaved himself up out of bed. Ignoring the throbbing sensation in his head, he took one step, only to nearly crumble to the floor in pain.

One look at his feet explained why - they were raw and bloody, covered in scrapes and bruises. He continued on, managing the vital few steps to the bathroom before he collapsed on the floor, body shaking.

No one was there to see him cry or hear his whimpers as he dragged himself to the bathtub, throwing himself inside with a loud gasp. It was all he could do not to vomit as he turned on the water, with a shaky bloody hand, why did his hands have holes in them? Draco tried to blink away the dark spots in his vision, truly he did, but as he felt his arm drop through sheer exhaustion and his body slowly shut down, all he could think was that he couldn’t wait to be reunited with his mother.

* * *

Somebody was screaming or crying, or both. Draco couldn’t tell. Everything was still hazy, he felt like he was underwater. His eyes wouldn’t open, mouth wouldn’t open, arms wouldn’t move.

“You fucking idiot!”

“That’s not helping!”

“What do we do?”

“The water’s not hot enough."

“Draco, please wake up.”

With difficulty, he managed to drag his eyes open, staring at the blurry woman in front of him. She was running her fingers through his hair, small sobs emitting from her body and Draco tried to smile at her, pressing a bloodied hand to her face.

“Don’t cry mother. I’m here now.”

He dropped his hand, vision growing darker as the woman froze, before she began sobbing in earnest, begging someone to do something. Hands were clutching at his robes shaking him.

“Pansy stop!”

“Draco, you need to drink this for me.”

Draco moaned, gagging on the liquid pouring in his mouth, his hands were burning and moving and shifting and it hurt so bad. Please he just wanted it to stop.

“Shit. Turn up the water temperature”

“Draco, I swear if you die on us, I’ll _never_ forgive you.”

* * *

Draco let out a groan as he woke up. Everything still hurt, but it was manageable. He was in his bed wrapped under a million blankets.

“Oh good, you’re awake then.”

Draco jerked, looking up into the red-rimmed eyes of one Pansy Parkinson, who was glaring at him.

“You fucking idiot!” She shouted, hitting him. “What were you thinking?”

“Ow. I’m injured, remember?”

Pansy paused at that, lip wobbling and Draco immediately knew he had gone too far.

“I can’t believe you would just joke around like that. Draco you nearly died!” Pansy shouted. “This is what I get for bothering to give a damn!”

She stood up and made to leave.

“Wait.” Draco snapped out, grabbing at her wrist and wincing at the sharp pain that went through his hand.

Pansy grumbled, gently removing his hand from her wrist and sighed. “You are so lucky I love you.” She sat down on the edge of the bed, pressing a kiss to his forehead, “What happened?”

Before he could answer, Theo and Blaise walked in, running at him the moment they realized he was awake.

“You fucking idiot, I should’ve never helped you.” Theo clutched at him.

“Honestly, Draco. What did you do to yourself?” Blaise said, “For a moment there…” He trailed off looking away.

“I’m sorry.” Draco whispered, “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Little too late, Draco, what did you do?” Theo said, “The state we found you in...”

“I don’t.” Draco paused, “I don’t-I can’t. The last thing I remember is going with you to deliver bracelets.”

“Only you Dray.” Pansy huffed out, “Only you would _obliviate_ yourself as a backup plan.”

“I- what?”

“It’s the only logical explanation. What I want to know is how you got back to the dorms. You, you- Draco, it was bad.”

“How bad?”

“You were so cold when I found you.” Pansy whispered, “For a second I thought you were already dead.”

“Why did you even come in? Not that I’m not grateful.”

“You didn’t really tell me much besides to make sure you had an alibi. I figured checking every couple of hours wouldn’t hurt.” Theo shrugged

“Pansy found you first, slumped in the bathtub. The water was warm, yet you were still freezing. There were so many dark curses and spells lingering on your body, and your hands looked like they had been skewered.” Blaise paused, as if steeling himself, “Draco, your feet looked torn apart, your back - the part where your wings come out, I guess, one side is all bloody and bruised and your shoulder Merlin your shoulder. Whatever bit you, it tore out a chunk of your shoulder and it’s infected. Your veins are pulsing black and it doesn’t look good.” He finished.

“It was touch and go there for a second. We gave you Skele-Gro and pain reliving potions, cleansed all the dark spells and curses, but you’re not completely healed.”

Draco nodded. He felt a lot better than earlier, though not by much. He held up his now bandaged hands. Holes they had said. There was only one ritual that could’ve resulted in such a wound, but he couldn’t fathom why it had been necessary. However, if he really did obliviate himself and Draco could understand why, there was no use wondering. He’d operate on the basis that he had no clue what happened last night if pressed, which technically wasn’t a lie.

“What time is it?”

“Six in the morning. Mind you, we’ve been saving your ass since four respectively.” Pansy answered.

“Just in time to get ready for classes,” Draco noted. “Thanks for saving my ass.”

“Don’t you think you should skip a day?” Blaise asked.

“As much as I would love to, just because I don’t remember, doesn’t mean nothing drastic happened last night. It’s best I keep up appearances.”

* * *

“Bloody Hell.”

Draco lifted his head, peering over Pansy’s shoulder as she showed him the Daily Prophet and felt his heart drop. The Dark Lord had broken his Death Eaters out of Azkaban. With a _dragon_.

But that was impossible, dragons couldn’t be controlled. It took a half a dozen wizards just to stupefy one. So that meant Draco had done…no, there was no way he would ever willingly work with the Dark Lord, not after what he’d done to his mother.

He quickly looked up, scanning the hall surreptitiously. Everyone was still putting the pieces together, but someone might make the connection. His father had been one of those Death Eaters, and he needed to leave the Great Hall before he drew too much attention to himself. 

Regardless of the whether or to he had done it, he knew accusations would start flying once they noticed his presence.

* * *

He’d barely made it out the Great Hall when a strong hand grabbed on to his shoulder, his bad shoulder and he gritted his teeth at the jolt of pain that ran through his arm.

“We were just looking for you, Mr. Malfoy.”

“If you’d follow us to the Headmaster’s office, it’d be much obliged.”

Draco said nothing, staring at the two red-robed Aurors. Of fucking course Dumbledore had let them in. Nothing but the best for his most hated students.

He ripped his shoulder out of the Auror's grasp, turning away without a word and making his way towards the headmaster’s office. Just because he wasn’t making a scene didn’t mean he’d be complying for them, that was for sure.

If Dumbledore was surprised that Draco could enter his office without assistance, he hid it well. As if it was hard to guess, the old man consistently used sweets as his passwords. Just because he wasn’t Dumbledore’s pet savior didn’t mean he didn’t have his sources.

He strolled in without so much a hello. After all, if Dumbledore was allowing him to be harassed by Aurors, he would receive no respect from him. Draco flopped down in a chair, crossing his arms and glaring at the men in the room.

“As you are no doubt well aware, last night, a group of highly dangerous individuals escaped from Azkaban, including your father.”

“And?” Draco drawled raising an eyebrow.

“We’ve summoned you here to be questioned with Vertiaserum.” The other Auror finally spoke up and Draco wanted to smack himself for not recognizing him earlier. It was their old Professor Moody, though Crouch had been the one to curse him into a ferret, Moody had spent the rest of the year following him around as if he expected Draco to reveal himself as a Death Eater and attack.

“Unfortunately for you, I know my rights. You can’t question me without a representative and I’m a minor.” He sneered.

The other Auror snorted, “Your inheritance states otherwise, you are now Lord of two ancient houses. In the eyes of old, you’re considered an adult.”

“Plus, the ministry has all but stated we’re at war. We might not be able to question you without representation, but we can see to it that you wait out your representative in one of our many holding cells. I’m sure it’ll be up to your standards.” Moody grinned.

“I think this is your best option, Mr. Malfoy.” Dumbledore spoke up.

Draco glared at him, mind racing. He wouldn’t put it past them to drag him to the holding cells and drug him with Vertiaserum anyways. He knew when he was beaten. Plus, he was an _Occlumens_ and Draco had nothing to hide, not really. For all he knew, he went back to bed after sending his letters off.

“Fine.” Draco snapped out, “Hand it over.”

“So, you can pretend to take it. Do you really take us for fools? Stick out your tongue.”

“I already agreed to it, didn’t I? Not that you left me much choice, so glad my esteemed headmaster had my best interest in heart.” Draco snapped, sticking his tongue out.

Instead of the two drops he’d been expecting, Draco choked as a hand covered his nose, and he felt the whole of vial being poured down his throat. He sat back coughing, wiping at his face.

“Fucking bastards! I’ll sue you for this! I’ll have your jobs and you headmaster for just letting it happen. I’ll have you removed.” Draco spat out.

Dumbledore just looked at him with a grave expression, while Moody and the other Auror turned red, “Show the headmaster some respect.”

“He doesn’t deserve my respect. None of you bloody assholes do.”

“Shut your mouth.”

“What, you wanted the truth didn’t you?” Draco sneered.

“What’s your name?”

“Draco Lucius Malfoy, if you really need to ask me that then the Auror department is even more pathetic than I imagined.”

The other Auror moved forward as if to slap him and Draco grinned, “Go ahead, give me another reason.”

That was the thing with Vertiaserum people didn’t understand. All it did was bring out the urge to tell the truth, it didn’t command respect or obedience. Nothing but the truth. For an Occulmens like Draco, he was able to tell the truth and still add in his snide comments. Like he would make it easy for them.

“Where were you yesterday evening?”

“In the owlery, in my dorm room, take your pick. Here at Hogwarts, in my bathroom the classrooms, patrolling-.”

“Where were you between the hours of 9pm and 6am.”

“In my dorm. At Hogwarts, the bathroom.” Draco smirked, it technically wasn’t a lie, he had no recollection of last night but if that’s what he believed to be true, then that’s what would come out.

“Did you have anything to do with this breakout?”

“No, but if I did, I certainly wouldn’t have come back here so you incompetent bastards could question me.” That much was true, not to mention Draco was never lifting a finger to help the Dark Lord ever again.

“Did you know about the breakout?”

“No.”

“Alastor, I believe that’s enough. Clearly Mr. Malfoy had nothing to do with the breakout.”

“Now you defend me. Well too little too late. Don’t think I won’t be bringing this us up with the proper channels.” Draco glared

If it had been the golden boy, Dumbledore would’ve never let it get this far before stepping in.

“Just one last question Albus.”

“Alastor-“

“You see it’s a little interesting, these circumstances. Your mother disappears, you come into your inheritance, then your father disappears. It seems even snakes can turn on their own.”

Draco seethed. How dare he imply, that Draco would dare cause his parents, his family, his treasures harm.

“So, what happened to your mother Malfoy?”

Draco clenched his jaw, as he struggled not to answer. They didn’t deserve to know. So far no one knew for sure, it was just speculation. No one deserved to know how utterly offensive her death had been. It wasn’t their right.

“Answer the question. How did your mother die?”

Blood filled his mouth, his canines sharpening and biting down on his tongue, doing his best not to answer.

“Did you kill her?”

“No.” Draco gasped out, wiping at his mouth with a shaky hand, he felt dizzy. Fighting against such a potent dose of Vertiaserum had been a mistake. Too much Vertiaserum often resulted in a giddy drunk feeling, something he could ignore and control, in his anger, but now he just felt exhausted.

“So, where’s your mother?”

“Dead.” Draco said monotonously, thinking of his mother’s demise, never failed to drain all the fight from him.

“How?”

“The Dark Lord had her beheaded.” Draco blurted out and stood up swaying slightly. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m done being questioned against my will.”

“Mr. Malfoy.” Dumbledore said, “Perhaps you’d like to remain here so you don’t run into anyone who might take advantage of you.”

“Besides yourself you mean.” Draco bit back. “I think we’re done here. You’ll be hearing from my solicitors about mistreatment.”

He turned tail and fled down the stairs before anyone else could respond, leaning against the wall at the bottom. He needed to get somewhere private. This amount of Vertiaserum wouldn’t be wearing off soon and as much as he hated Dumbledore, the man was right. He couldn’t let anyone find him like this.

Draco debated going to the dungeons, before deciding on the third-floor corridor. No one ever went there, not to mention everyone should be in class. It was too big a risk to try and make it down to the dungeons so the third floor would have to do.

* * *

Draco shot up with a jolt, and winced, clutching his pounding head, vision swimming he tried to force down the nausea swirling in his stomach. To no avail, he leaned over to the side and throwing up. All the side effects of drinking without actually being drunk, wonderful.

It was only then he took notice of his surroundings. He was in dimly lit room sitting on a very plush bed. He rubbed at his eyes, willing the strain to go away. Everything hurt - the pain-relieving potions must have worn off while he slept.

“You're awake. Feeling better?”

Draco looked up, finding Entwhistle’s eyes on him and frowned in confusion. When had he met up with Entwhistle?

Entwistle grinned at him and vanished the mess by the side of the bed, and sat on the side of the bed, pressing a kiss to his nose, “I found you just about passed out in the third-floor corridor.”

Draco nodded. That tracked out, he remembered heading for the corridor and then…nothing, he must have fallen asleep. With his injuries and the amount of Vertiaserum in his body it was probably inevitable.

“You brought me back to your dorm?” Draco asked, not sure how he felt about it. He wasn’t hiding his relationship with Entwhistle, not really, but he also didn’t want everybody in his business. 

“No.” Entwhistle said, “I brought you to the Come and Go Room, figured you didn’t want the attention.”

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you gorgeous. It’s what boyfriends do.”

Draco nodded along, he still felt out of sorts, he couldn’t help feel like he was missing something. He bit his lip, debating with himself. Had Entwhistle known about the Vertiaserum? But how could he, unless Draco told him?

“Did I, err-did I say something, was I acting in a peculiar fashion?”

Entwhistle, Draco really should start calling him Kevin now, he was his…something, he wasn’t quite sure on the term boyfriend.

“Not really. You were just talking about how tired you were and how you couldn’t wait to get me to bed.”

Draco blushed, brushing some hair out of his face, “Did I-we?”

Entwistle-Kevin, looked appalled, “Of course not Draco, what do you take me for? I would never take advantage of you like that, not unless you asked nicely. Not that I would’ve minded tiring you out more.”

‘ _You’re taking advantage of me.’_

Draco blinked, where had that thought came from? Who was taking advantage of him? He tried to wrack his thoughts but the only thing that came up was Potter and he hadn’t spoken to Potter since that awful night his mother had been murdered.

He broke from his thoughts, when a sharp pain throbbed in both hands and stood up, “Sorry for implying, you’re a good…boyfriend.”

The word sounded weird on his tongue, like it wasn’t right, _wrong._ It didn’t apply, his chest burned, something was wrong, but that all faded when Ent-Kevin smiled at him and dragged him in for a kiss.

“I’ll show you how a good a boyfriend i can be.” Kevin purred, he was doing something, and Draco was losing himself.

“I’ll make it up to you, promise.” Draco gasped out, as Kevin pressed kisses against his jawline.

“You can make it up to me now.”

“I probably missed class, I need to get notes-“

Draco cut off with a moan, knees buckling as Kevin skimmed over his sensitive spot, just underneath his jaw, nibbling at his throat.

Suddenly a sharp pain ran down his back and Draco twitched, coming back to himself and backed up. “Really, Kevin I have to go. I need to figure out if there was an assignment for the class I missed and come up with an excuse before I get detention. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

He grabbed at his book bag, sliding it over his shoulder, ignoring the bolt of pain, pulling Kevin in for a quick kiss and striding out the door.

* * *

“Dumbledore just let the Aurors dose you?” Pansy paced. “Merlin. And they say we’re prejudiced. If had been his precious Potter, he would’ve never let that happen.”

Draco couldn’t help the small smile that spread across his face, she had taken the words straight out of his mouth. This is why she was his best friend.

He bit at his lip, before rushing over and pulling her into a tight hug, scenting at her as the familiar scent of lemon and honey wafted through his nose. It was somewhat overwhelming how much he had grown to care for her, for all of his friends, but Pansy especially. It was just different from Blaise and Theo. He had known her his whole life ever since they were babes.

He’d always kept her at arm’s length until this year, not wanting to deal with her crush, then the fallout after he, Blaise, and her had broken up. Friends, friends so close he could call family. She was the only woman in his life now, he’d risk life and limb for her.

“I love you.” Draco whispered.

Pansy stilled for a second, before running a hand through his hair, “I love you too, you dolt.”

Draco grinned, nuzzling into her some more only to be shoved away with a shriek, “Ew!”

Pansy clutched at her neck, a look of disgust and vague amusement warring on her face, “Did you just lick me?”

Draco shrugged, how else was he supposed to mark her as his, and Pansy rolled her eyes, “You’d think being a dragon would make you this sexy badass or something but no, you turn into a sappy weirdo who licks people.”

Instead of responding, Draco took out his wand, tossing it at Pansy who caught it, before stepping out of his robe, smirking at the way she eyed him.

“Thought I wasn’t sexy?”

“Quiet you.” Pansy scoffed, “Like you wouldn’t be doing the same thing if I walked around naked.”

Draco rolled his eyes in acquiesce; she wasn’t wrong. Pansy had the nicest body he’d ever seen on a woman; he had a thing for nice legs on a woman, and Pansy definitely had nice legs. It was a shame they hadn’t worked out.

He’d barely stepped into the prefects' bathroom when the door slid open revealing Blaise and Theo. Theo let out a groan, covering up his eyes. “Come on Dray, no one wants to see that.”

“Speak for yourself.” Blaise smirked, and Draco knew he was eyeing him as he submerged himself in the water. A swish of Theo’s wand had the water steaming and boiling. Far too hot for a regular human.

“Why did we breakup again?”

“Because I change sexualities the same way I change outfits, you’re a whore, and Draco is a hopeless romantic who likes being in stable relationships, even though he’ll never admit it.” Pansy listed out.

“Anyways,” Theo interrupted. “Draco, we missed you in Arithmancy,” Theo said. “Where were you?”

“Sleeping off a Vertiaserum overdose.”

“A what?”

Draco waved a hand at Pansy, giving her the go-ahead and submerging himself further in the boiling water. It felt amazing. The ache in his chest faded, his hands felt less raw, his shoulder had stopped stinging. He briefly wondered if flying into a volcano would heal him faster. After all if heat was a method of healing for dragons, then a volcano should more than suffice.

“Seriously, Dumbledore just let it happen?” Blaise said.

“Are you really all that surprised? Remember first year.” Theo hissed out.

At that, the three of them couldn’t help but exchange a glance at the brunette boy’s expense. Theo had worked extremely hard in first year and had gotten most of the points for Slytherin, only to have the House Cup stolen away. They had heard the rant a million times; it was nice to see that he’d finally got over it. _Not_

“Yes, we know Dumbledore doesn’t care about anyone but his Saint Potter.” Pansy spat out.

Blaise tapped at his chin, a thoughtful expression on his face, before snapping his fingers. “That’s it.”

“What’s it?”

“We have to get close to Potter. Dumbledore’s influential sure, but Potter is the savior. No one would mistreat anyone close to the savior.”

“Getting close to Potter.” Draco snorted, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Hear me out. Last year with all the drama in the Department of Ministries, he went rushing in to save his godfather or whatever.”

“Why does that matter?”

“Potter has a savior complex; he wouldn’t let the Aurors treat you like this. Don’t you see? It's the perfect shield.”

“Except there’s one problem, I don’t like Potter and he doesn’t like me.”

“He sure seemed to like you well enough to carry you to the Come and Go Room that one time.” Theo smirked.

“Not to mention the way he’s been following you around. Remember when he showed up outside of the Forbidden Forest?” Pansy said.

Draco frowned, running over the idea in his head. He hated to admit but Blaise had a point. Potter had influence and power. Meanwhile, Draco's father was an Azkaban escapee. If the war ended in Potter’s favor, Draco would need help keeping him out.

“Plus, if you get in good with the Gryffindors, that means we all get in good with the Gryffindors, and there’s a pretty little lion I’ve had my eye on.” Blaise smirked.

Of course, Blaise had an ulterior motive, when didn’t he? Draco should’ve known. Blaise had a tendency to think with his dick, he supposed when you were as attractive as he was, it should’ve been expected.

“Ooh.” Pansy piped up, “Good point, Pavarti is looking pretty delectable.”

“Ugh, Theo don’t tell me, you want to shag a Gryffindor as well.”

Theo rolled his eyes, “Please, I have better ways to spend my time.”

“Whatever you say.”

Draco slunk in the water again, contemplative. A truce with Potter, but no a truce wouldn’t be enough, he needed to be friends with Potter. But who was to say the boy wouldn’t reject him again like had in first year?

Then again, Potter had spent most of this year following him around, and he had carried him to the Room of Requirement after that one night. They hadn’t interacted since their argument, but Draco had apologized to both Weasley and Granger, that had to count for something.

He closed his eyes, a sense of calm spreading through his body, as he shifted, limbs elongating, skin hardening. The hot water felt amazing on his wounds, he could feel all the bruises fading and the pain ebbing away.

Draco moved his tail, swimming his way over to the edge and resting his head on the edge and giving Pansy a puppy dog look or attempting too. Could dragons even make puppy dog eyes?

Pansy hesitated, before touching the water gently with her hand, eyes widening as she looked at the boiling water Draco was in. She wasn’t being burned and that was good enough for her.

Slowly she sat on the edge, dropping her legs in after removing her shoes and Draco eagerly placed his head in her lap.

“Merlin, you are the neediest dragon I have ever met.” She snorted, stroking his head.

Draco grumbled, a small pillow of smoke leaving his mouth. He was the only dragon she’d ever met thank you for very much, and he’d better be the _only_ one.

“Pans that water is boiling.” Theo whispered.

“I know, but Draco also knows if I end up with third degree burns on my beautiful body, I’d kill him myself.”

Draco ignored the conversation, of course he wouldn’t let anything happen to Pansy or any of them. He wasn’t quite sure how he was controlling the temperature but as long as he was there, they wouldn’t be burned. He really needed to research more on dragons. Was he a specific type of dragon? Did he have any weaknesses?

But for now, Draco just focused on the sensation engulfing his body. He’d never felt at such ease. With his pack protecting him while he focused on healing, he’d never felt so safe.

All thoughts slowly faded away as his baser instincts came forward. Another pair of hands stroked his wings and another pair his back. Despite being in dragon form, Draco felt more level-headed than he had in a while. 

He could feel the dragon within merging with his very core. It wasn’t like lycanthropy, with both sides raging for control. No, he was both. Everything was clearer now; it was like the world had somehow shifted.

He was Draco in every sense of the word. A dragon and a wizard. He finally felt whole, _complete_. He was Draco Malfoy, and he would show those who harmed his exactly why the Malfoy name meant _bad faith_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah Draco's OOCness he literally doesn't remember any of his interactions with Harry after his mom died. Fun times. Anyways let me know what you think, this chapter wasn't really my fave. But good news more Draco/Harry interactions next chapter.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I'm basing Draco's dragon powers off a mixture of real life reptile abilities (komodo dragons and snakes) and Bloom from Winx Club haha.
> 
> Tell me what you guys think. I literally get a huge smile every time I read your comments.

Draco woke up well the next day, in the sense that he woke up completely overwhelmed and discombobulated. He froze for a second at what greeted him, before closing his eyes, and slowing down his breathing in order to regulate his dragon abilities.

He really didn’t need to be able to smell everyone every time he stuck his tongue out. How would he even talk? Draco was a talker; he didn’t want to smell what Potter smelled like when he actually said hello.

Still, he felt comforted by the fact that whenever he needed them, his abilities were still there lurking under the surface. Draco was once again in control of his own body.

After getting dressed, he eyed himself in the mirror with a little smirk. His hair was perfectly styled and practically gleaming in the light, the silver jewelry adorned on his neck, ears, and fingers matched woefully well with his eyes, and his robes were artfully pressed. In other words, he looked good and he felt good. Something he hadn’t felt in weeks.

It was the effect of finally being whole with his inner dragon, of finding his pack that centered him. He realized now; the loss of his mother had been the tearing of a pack. A pack shared only between mother and son. Without his mother keeping him grounded and controlled, his pack had torn itself apart leaving Draco out of sorts.

His memory of everything following her death was somewhat hazy, the backlash of the pack bond dissolving. Not to mention his self-obliviation. Like not knowing how he’d woken up previously injured. It didn't matter now he supposed, for the first time all week he finally felt aware and awake. 

He was mostly healed; his hands were still painfully sensitive, and Draco had taken to wrapping them up in bandages. His shoulder was no longer infected, though it twinged quite painfully, if he moved it to quickly and the bite marks were taking a very long time to heal. Aside from a few other minor cuts and bruises, he felt fine.

The bracelets were ready and waiting to be sent out to anyone who asked for one. Each bracelet had a specific rune that detailed which safe house they’d be portkeyed too. For a second, he contemplated bringing everyone to the Manor, as they certainly had enough rooms, but he didn’t want everyone ripe for the picking if the Manor was somehow stormed. He had however made sure to put Pansy, Theo, and Blaise at the same safe house as a precaution.

All he had to do today was read up some more on dragons, wait to receive a reply from his Aunt - the sane one, send a letter to his father and solicitors, and apologize to Potter.

At that last thought, Draco couldn’t help but wilt slightly. He really didn’t want to apologize to Potter. Unlike Granger and Weasley, who he had insulted based on things they couldn’t change, like their blood status, monetary status or family lineage, Potter’s hadn’t been as hurtful.

Draco shook his head. There was no excusing his actions with Potter. Just because the boy was a bit of a prat and rejected his friendship didn’t mean he had to antagonize the other child. He’d made fun of him for being an orphan, he was a terrible person. It didn’t matter that Potter had always given just as much back, if not more. The fault lied with Draco; he’d mostly always started it.

Whatever, if he was going to apologize to Potter, at least he’d look damn good doing it. Here he sent his mirror a wink and grabbed his schoolbag. After all, who could refuse a pretty face? Draco was perfectly charming when he needed to be. Potter wouldn’t be able to resist. Resist what, you ask? His apology, what else was _there_ to resist?

Draco was loving being one with the dragon. Ever since it had awoken, Draco had taken to eating mostly meats and protein in general, sometimes way too rare for his liking, but now that they were one…

“Oh Salazar.” Theo squirmed, holding up a hand to cover his face, “Draco, how you can eat that? It’s disgusting.”

“It tastes exquisite.” Draco retorted, taking a big piece of his bacon butty which he had slathered with honey and syrup. His dragon side liked meats and his human side had always liked sweets, so his new method was slathering all his meats with as much sugar as he could.

“Keep eating like that, and you’ll end up looking like Hagrid.”

“Bold words, coming from the girl who’s gone up two robe sizes.”

“I’ll fucking gut you.” Pansy leaned forward, brandishing her fork menacingly at him. “Height is not related to weight!”

Draco grinned and moved forward, pressing a quick kiss to her nose and moving back as Pansy tried to swipe at him. Blaise, from where he was sat next to her, dodged her arm without looking, turning his dark eyes on him.

“Must you antagonize her when she’s sitting right next to me?”

“And just what do you mean by that?”

Draco shrugged, “It’s how I show my love. What just because we’re all friends now, I’m supposed to be _nice_? Please you knew what you were signing up for.”

“I knew I should’ve just gone to Ravenclaw.” Theo mumbled.

Draco whipped around to glare at him, “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

He looked at Pansy and they both cracked a smile, realizing they’d said pretty much the same thing. Pansy truly was his other half. She’d make a nice substitute if he wasn’t able to find…Draco shook his head, substitute for what? What was he supposed to find?

“Mail’s here.”

When the hall suddenly quieted down, Draco inwardly groaned. No doubt they were all looking at him. After yesterday’s fiascos with the Aurors, he’d gone to dinner and there had been a front-page expose on the exact details of his mother’s death. Stating the details but not who’d actually murdered her. _Cowards_.

Like that wasn’t completely demeaning, degrading, and wholly unnecessary. Draco couldn’t wait to milk them for all they worth. Though he supposed the dedication page to her was nice - As a woman of high society, they’d posted a multitude of random portraits showcasing her class and beauty. He’d torn out every single one and kept them in his choker.

“What is it this time?”

And to think he’d actually wanted to see his name in the papers as a child. How naïve he’d been.

“Well, it’s not so bad.” Theo said handing it to him.

Draco read through the rest of the paper. So far, he wasn’t seeing any cause of concern, they were talking about his inheritance again, and…

There, the houses of Black and Malfoy, their seats burning at the Wizengamot, the implication that only dark blood rituals could’ve caused the seats to engulf in flames. Idiots the lot of them. Blood rituals did not equal dark rituals.

“What do you mean it’s not so bad? This is horrible.”

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

“You didn’t want to worry me?”

“What was I supposed to say, that the Ministry is all but calling you a Dark Wizard?” Theo responded.

“Ugh.” Draco groaned, taking another bite of his breakfast. Even all this drama couldn’t get rid of his appetite, he was ravenous. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

“What?”

“I’ve no choice now. I’ve got to -” He paused, licking up a drop of honey trailing down his hand, “Get Potter on my side.”

At once, all four of them moved to look at the other boy. Draco met Potter’s scowled gaze, absentmindedly, licking his sticky fingers clean. He watched as Potter turned a splotchy bright red and hastily avoided eye contact. 

That was weird. Usually, Potter had no problem staring him down for hours, there were days, where they’d spend all of mealtime glaring at each other. Which now that he thought about it, was a little _obsessive_ on both their sides. Especially when one took in the fact that they sat on opposite ends of the hall. Maybe this was good sign, he and Potter should probably stop with the intense looks if they were going to become…friends. He couldn’t stop the shudder.

“You know Draco, I don’t think you’ll have any problems getting on Potter's good side.” Pansy smirked.

“What makes you say that?”

“Just call it woman’s intuition.” She moved her eyes back to the Gryffindor table, “Oh and Draco dear you’ve missed a spot.”

She pointed at her cheek, and Draco instinctively stuck out his tongue, trying to reach, licking his lips clean in the process.

Across the hall he heard a commotion and spotted Potter’s figure hunched over and coughing, Weasley patting him on the back, a discard glass of pumpkin juice spilling across the table that Granger cleaned up with a flick of her wand. Merlin, the idiot couldn’t even drink juice properly, how was he supposed to deal with such a _neanderthal_?

Pansy had a pleased smile on, and Draco almost wanted to ask before thinking better of it. Whenever Pansy got that smug look on her face, it was best to leave her up to her own devices.

Anyway, priorities. Draco started loading up another meal, this time a sausage and eggs platter covered with various sweet jams and stuffed a large forkful in his mouth.

“Seriously Draco, you’re worse than Crabbe and Goyle put together.” Theo gagged.

* * *

Draco sat at his desk in Herbology, idly tapping his hands on the desk as he ran through his to-do list in his head. Safe houses were ready to go. His friends were safe. His father was safe. The bracelets were ready. It had taken him ages to weave together the most delicate charms, charms that read your body's magical signature and portkeyed you away if the magical signature read danger. It had been exhausting but oh so worth it. It wouldn't work against if were anti-portkey wards up, but then again no would be able to notice the bracelet besides the wearer, so hopefully no portkey wards would be up.

He glanced out one of the greenhouse windows, mind wandering on his next plan of action. Everyone was safe but Draco still felt the boiling rage hidden deep inside, he wanted the Dark Lord destroyed for his actions against his mother. His pack mother. He couldn't help the small smile that spread across his face, remembering how he had driven the Dark Lord out of his own house, sure it had almost cost him his life, but having that vile creature out of his home was worth it. 

“I wonder if Professor Sprout would notice me swiping some of this Knotgrass to keep for myself.” Blaise said.

“And why, pray tell, would you do that?” Draco sighed, snapped out of his daydreaming.

Merlin, Herbology was so boring. He hated it with a passion. It didn’t help that often times, it went hand in hand with Potions. After all, you needed to know the ins and outs as to why a certain ingredient wouldn’t react well with another. That was around the time he’d slowly stopped liking Potions as much. Charms was far more interesting and less messy as well. He was not meant to work in the mud and dirt.

“Because Knotgrass is the main ingredient in Knotgrass Mead. I could probably make a pretty potent knock off version.”

“Again, Blaise. Why?”

“I doubt Professor Slughorn will be very forthcoming with the drinks during his Slug Club Christmas Party.”

“You’re actually going to that?”

“Don’t be jealous, it’s not a good luck on you.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Ooh what is Draco jealous about.” Pansy said, spinning around in her stool to face them. Theo from where he sat next to her didn’t bother turning around but they all knew he was listening in.

“I’m not-“

“That I’ll be attending Slughorn’s Christmas Party and he won’t.”

“Whatever.” Draco scoffed. He had better things to do than worry about Professor Slughorn’s stupid Christmas Party. Like he cared. _Honestly._

“Fine, be that way. See if I give you any of my special Knotgrass brew.” Blaise said, stuffing two handfuls of the grass in his robes.

Draco rolled his eyes, Blaise would share if he batted his eyes prettily enough, he always caved. You’d think after six years of friendship the other boy would be immune to it by now, but who was Draco to complain when it got him what he wanted. 

Herbology ended with little fanfare and Draco slowly packed up, taking the time to steel himself. He could do this. At the door Pansy gave him a wink and Blaise and Theo both gave him hesitant smiles. Across the room, he could see Potter waving off his own friends as he packed up.

He didn’t miss the looks Weasley and Granger shot his way, but they were far cry from the looks he used to get from them, so he was going to count it as a win. At least Potter had agreed to meet with him. It was more than he deserved if he was being honest.

“Malfoy-”

“Not here.” Draco hissed out, “Follow me.”

He grabbed onto to Potter’s hand and all but dragged him from the classroom, heading for an area behind the greenhouses. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be seen with Potter, that would be helpful, but he didn’t need anyone eavesdropping on his conversations.

“Right .”

“Malfoy-“

“Just give me a second, Potter.” Draco said, taking a sharp inhale. Right. Time for a short monologue. Now or never. It came out in a rush, words spilling out of him before he could second-guess himself.

“I would like to apologize. For what you may ask? For being, well, a prat for the past six years. I apologize for insulting your parentage and deceased family members. It was uncouth and I knew better. I deeply regret my poor choice of wording. I’m sorry for insulting and treating you and your friends so poorly as such as well." Draco couldn't help but take a step forward, for some reason it was imperative Potter realize how sorry he was, "Also, I’m feeling particularly penitent for ever have mocked you for not having living parents. I understand now and I’m dreadfully sorry it took this for me to realize how wrong I was.”

The only response he got for his heartfelt confession was Potter gaping at him. Draco bit his lip nervously, swallowing once he realized how close they were. Surprisingly, it didn't feel weird, it felt familiar like he had been this close to Potter before, which was preposterous. Like Potter would ever go near him by choice.

It was silent between them for several moments, Potter slowly looked down at their still intertwined hands and Draco hastily let go, taking a step back with a mumbled 'sorry'.

Potter stared at him thoughtfully, “Did you just apologize?” 

Draco blinked, startled. He supposed it was unexpected, him actually apologizing to Potter, maybe that’s why the other boy was so confused. Potter reminded him of a crup, head all tilted in adorable confusion. Hold up, did he just call Potter _adorable?_

“But yesterday…” 

“Yesterday?” Draco prompted, raising an eyebrow. 

“Nothing, I guess.” Potter shook his head, “I’ll accept your apology on one condition.”

“Oh, and what might that be? Name your price.”

“We become friends, err, friend - lier.”

It was Draco’s turn to gape at him. “Friends?”

“Don’t act so surprised, you’ve spent the last six years harassing me because I didn’t want to be your friend.”

“Yes, well.” Draco sniffed. Talk about embarrassing memories. “Why now?”

Potter squared his shoulders, emboldened. “Why not? I’m not an idiot. You’re up to something and I’m going to find out what. You're also not an idiot, if I started suddenly being nice to you, you'd be rightfully suspicious. This way I get to figure out what you're planning and for taking the risk of me actually figuring out your plans, you get all the status and benefits of being friends with the Chosen One, which I'm sure you'll appreciate.”

Draco bit his lip, thinking it over in his head. It was a good plan. It was almost Slytherin of the other boy to use Draco's own attachment to his reputation to get what he wanted. He wasn’t up to anything malicious (towards the general populace, bastard-deprived-of-a-nose notwithstanding), but he really didn’t want Potter sticking his nose where he didn’t belong, he'd run off and tell Dumbledore no doubt, and Draco would never trust the Headmaster. He could tell the truth, but it’s not like Potter would believe him anyhow. At least if they were on friendly terms, the other boy would stop stalking him all the time. Draco could even fake being up to something to throw him off track.

“Alright then.”

“Great." Potter hesitated, then made to leave. "Well, if that’s all?” 

“Wait.” Draco blurted out, a new idea forming in his head. “You’re in Professor Slughorn’s little club, correct? The Slug thing.”

“Slug _Club,_ erm, yeah? Why?”

“I’d also be correct in assuming you don’t have a date for his Christmas Party?”

Potter flushed, scowling at him. “None of your business, Malfoy.”

“So much for that friendship thing.” Draco retorted, steamrolling over Potter who opened his mouth indignantly, “In any case, I have a proposition. Why don’t you bring me as your date?”

“What?” Potter spluttered. “I can’t- You can’t be my date.”

“Why not?”

“You’re a boy!”

“So? Are my parts relevant? It’s not that big a deal. Madame Hooch has been married to Madame Pomfrey since first year. Not to mention your old Quidditch Captain Wood used to hook up with mine - Flint. I doubt we’d be the only same-sex couple there.”

“Wait what! Seriously -” Potter shouted, “ No, but - Look, Malfoy. I’m not gay.”

“So? Neither am I.” Draco shrugged; it wasn’t a lie. He’d never been fond of labels. He just liked who he liked. Gender was never the basis of his attraction. Speaking of it was startling to realize he’d been such a hypocrite. How could he judge someone on _blood-status_ but not gender?

“But you- Look, either way I wouldn’t want you to be my date.”

Well, that didn’t hurt at all. “Why not, Potter? I’ll have you know I’m extremely good-looking.” Draco pouted, crossing his arms. Being Potter’s date was a surefire way to prove how close they are. “I’ll even make it worth your while.”

“Malfoy, you can’t just proposition yourself!”

Draco waved a hand; Potter was so dramatic. “Do you always think with your dick?” It was time to employ a new tactic, “Look, you may have heard that I’m the new Lord of both House Malfoy and House Black.”

“Yeah, so what?”

“Well, I’ve heard rumors that you were somewhat close to Sirius Black. I’d be more than willing to grant you ownership of whatever Black properties you’d like. Or any old relics of his I may happen to find.”

Potter gaped at him, “You’re seriously bartering my dead Godfather’s stuff for a date? This is a new low, I can’t believe-”

“I mean no disrespect Potter; I’ll even offer you help in potions, something you must desperately need considering the fact that you spent all of last year in remedial potions -"

“I wasn’t in remedial potions, I was - “

“You were?”

"…It doesn’t matter anyway. Forget it. Look, you wouldn’t be able to help with that, let’s get back to my - “

“You never know Potter. Besides, we’re friends now, aren’t we? To think I was so willing to extend my trust and you can’t do the same. Friendship is a two-way lane.” 

Draco may have apologized but getting under the other boy's skin was just too _easy_.

“Merlin, you’re annoying!” Potter snapped, “I was learning Occlumency. Doubt you know anything about that. So, like I said, let’s move on.”

“Hold up. I just so happen to be an expert Occulmens.”

“Sure you are Malfoy." 

“I am truly. In fact,...new deal. I’ll give you back any Black properties of your choice they’ll be completely in your control, return any old mementos I find of Sirius Black, tutor you in Occlumency, and we can proceed in our new friendship so you can finally discover what I’m up to.”

Potter raised an eyebrow, “That's awfully nice of you Malfoy. What's the catch?”

Draco inwardly grinned, Potter had fallen right into his trap.

“Well, I’d very much like to be your date for Slughorn’s Christmas Party.”

“But why?” Potter said throwing up his hands in exasperation.

“Well, you said it yourself. This friendship is supposed to give me benefits of being around you. Being your date to Slughorn’s party is another way for me to reap those benefits.”

“Yeah, but don’t you have a…” Potter trailed off awkardly

“Don’t I have?"

“Nothing. Never mind. Surely that can't be it. What else do you want?”

Draco bit his lip, before answering, “If you win against the Dark Lord, I ’d like protection for my father and friends.”

“Your father? The Death Eater?” Potter glared at him.

Normally Draco would’ve responded to that, but sadly Potter had a point.

“He’s still my father.” Draco answered softly, “And he’s all I have left.”

Potter's stare softened slightly, though his hands were still clenched in tight fists, “Is that it?”

“Yes.”

Potter closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, fists slowly relaxing. “Fine.”

He stuck out his hand and held out in his direction and Draco shook it with a smirk, triumphant.

“Oh, cheer up Potter. I’ll have you know I’m an excellent dancer.”

* * *

“Alright Weasley. What’s with you?” Draco snapped.

The other boy had been giving him suspicious looks ever since they’d met up and began working on their potions and it was starting to get on his nerves. Right now they were currently working on identifying the different reactions they got from combineing various ingredients. They wer eone step closer to actually completing their potion.

“Nothing.” Weasley huffed out. “What happens if we mix the Bat Spleen and the Abraxan Hair again?"

“Nothing.” Draco mimicked, “Don’t tell me you actually believe that drivel in the Prophet? I thought we were past the assumptions and stereotyping.”

“Can you blame me?” Weasley snapped out. “One apology doesn’t magically absolve the past five years of your behavior.”

“I never intended-“

“S’not like you called for Hermione’s death back in second year or anything,” He said sarcastically, “So excuse me for thinking the Prophet might hold some truth. Not to mention your father -“

“What about my father?” Draco asked coolly .

His father may have made some questionable decisions but he wasn’t a _bad_ man. Why did everyone else think otherwise?

Weasley glared at him in response. “Don’t do this Malfoy. You won’t like what I have to say.”

“No, go ahead Weasley. Obviously, you’ve got something you want to say about my father.” Draco crossed his arms.

“What? I shouldn’t because he’s your dad? I hate to break to you, but he’s a Death Eater!” Weasley snapped, “You do know what that means don’t you? It means if he ever got the chance, he’d kill me and all my friends with a smile on his face.”

Draco snorted; his father wouldn’t do that. His father didn’t go after children. It was dishonorable and Weasley and his friends may have been blood traitors but that didn’t warrant their deaths. Plus, his father would never smile in public. It would be against the pureblood’s ethics. A mocking smirk, perhaps.

“Weasley, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I? He tried to kill me and my friends last year. We almost died.”

No. Weasley had to be lying. Children, his father wouldn’t try to kill children. He’d known his father had been aligned with some unsavory figures, but it had never registered. Had his father really attempted to kill children as young as his _own_ child?

“Your father deserves to be in Azkaban, if not for that, then for almost killing my sister during her first year.”

Weasley wasn’t lying. That much was obvious. Why would he lie about this. That meant... First year, his father had really tried to kill a first year. Distinctly he could picture a twelve-year-old version of himself telling Hermione Granger that she would die. Had he really been that _awful_? His father had risked his own’s life, in his vendetta against blood traitors and mud bloods.

“I didn’t.”

“Didn’t what? Know ? You knew, deep down Malfoy, you knew. You honestly think your father wouldn’t take the opportunity to get rid of blood-traitors and mudbloods ? If so, you’re a fool Malfoy.”

Draco took in a shuddering breath. He’d never allowed himself to think too much on it before. Hadn’t wanted to. His father, everyone in their pureblood circle had said that the Dark Lord would be cleansing the world, a new hierarchy with purebloods on top. He’d never thought to think what cleansing meant. Once he had met the Dark Lord he hadn’t wanted to _stop_ and think. He'd been to scared to.

But there was no avoiding the truth now. All the pieces were falling into place. If Weasley was telling the truth and he knew in his heart he was. His father had unleashed a beast just to get back at those deemed unworthy, at the risk of his own son. Maybe he believed that a pureblood would be fine, but Clearwater had been a halfblood and she’d gotten petrified. Her family weren’t even known blood traitors. How did Slytherin’s Monster know who to attack and who to avoid. Father had tried to kill Weasley and his friends last year or at best capture them and wasn’t that a death warrant in itself?

He took another deep breath and then another, and another. His father wasn’t a good person, but his father loved him. He’d taken him flying on Pegasus’ and to Quidditch matches and had taught him how to walk and talk. His father loved him, loved him and his mother.

His mother, who had been killed by his father’s Lord, by his own Lord. His father had told him that the Dark Lord would liberate them, his father had lied to him. No. Draco still should’ve known. He’d been so eager to prove his worth, to make up for his father’s mistakes, only to get his mother killed.

Oh Merlin. His father was back at home with former prisoners of the Dark Lord. Prisoners who were considered blood traitors and uncommon, what would his father do? Would he lock them up again, kill them? No Ollivander was safe but what about Fortescue? What if they’d taken his advice and brought their families, what would father do then?

It was getting infinitely harder to breath, his breath coming out in short little breaths as his mind raced. No wonder Potter had been so angry when he'd ask for a pardon for his father. Why on earth had Potter agreed?

“Malfoy?”

What was his father’s stance now? He may have renounced the Dark Lord for killing mother, but would he still attempt to kill those he considered less then? Would he expect Draco to? Would his father consider him a blood traitor, would he try to kill him too?

“Malfoy?”

The room was spinning, he felt like he was going to be sick. He couldn’t breathe, his ears were ringing, he felt sweaty and clammy…

“Malfoy!”

He dropped to the floor, burying his face in his knees, body trembling. What was he supposed to do? He loved his father and he’d never questioned his father’s love for him. But if that same father would attempt to kill a blood traitor’s child, what would he do to his own blood traitor son?

For Draco was a blood traitor, and if he wasn’t now, it was the path he was destined for. He’d apologized to mudbloods and blood traitors. He’d sent out protection charms to his estranged blood traitor family.

Oh Merlin. What was wrong with him?

“Malfoy.”

Draco looked up spotting the blurry face of Weasley in front of him and felt a brand-new wave of panic. When had he ended up on the floor? The dragon was supposed to be under control. This shouldn’t be happening.

Weasley grabbed onto his hands, which had been slowly digging into his arms, leaving bright red imprints. He was saying something, but Draco couldn’t hear him over the thudding of his heart in his chest, mind still racing. Weasley started gesturing at his chest, and Draco followed, watching Weasley take slow deep breaths, unconsciously copying the motion.

“- Inhale, exhale.” Weasley whispered “Malfoy, give me five things you can see.”

What kind of question was that? It worked to bring him out of his musings and Draco weakly scanned the room, the only thing he could focus on was Weasley himself, “Red hair.”

“That’s one. Keep going.”

“Blue eyes, freckles.”

Weasley let out a small chuckle, “If I wasn’t aware of your boyfriend, I’d think you were coming on to me. What else?”

“Cauldron and chairs.”

“Alright, now name four things you can feel.”

“The floor, my robes, my hair, you.” Draco whispered, the ringing in his ears had stopped and he no longer felt so dizzy.

“Three things you can hear.”

“You, me. I can’t think of anything else.”

“It’s fine. One thing you can taste.”

“Salt.”

Draco blinked, body relaxing as Weasley finally took a step backward. When had the other boy gotten so close to him in the first place? 

“Feel better?”

Draco nodded, flexing his fingers, “I don’t understand.”

“I’m guessing you’ve never had a panic attack before. My brother Percy used to get them all the time. Recognized the symptoms… I’m sorry Malfoy. I shouldn’t have said any of that stuff about your dad to you.”

Draco hunched over feeling ridiculously small and exhausted, “You were right.” He mumbled.

“Yeah, doesn’t mean I couldn’t have been gentler. He is your father I suppose. Probably treats you better than he does everyone else." Ron shrugged.

“I’m sorry too, I didn’t realize, really. I didn’t know about your sister or-or last year. It never occurred to me.”

“Malfoy. You don’t have to apologize, not for something you didn’t do, especially something you didn't know about. I’m sorry your dad’s such a dick to anyone who isn’t a Malfoy.”

Draco let out a little sniffle, wiping at his too wet face. When he had he started crying? That explained the salt taste. “Me too.”

“You know, my brother Charlie’s gay.”

“What?”

Weasley shrugged, “Just making conversation.”

“And you brought up your brother because?”

“Well, you know.”

“No, I do not know. If you’re trying to imply that I’m gay, I’m not. I don’t - I just like who I like.” Draco sniffed, “Who brings up gay relatives when making conversation?”

“I don’t know. It was the first thing that popped into my head. Was trying to find something relatable.”

“Well normal people bring up regular topics, like the weather, or Quidditch. Plenty relatable.”

“Bloody Hell, Malfoy. Fine.” Weasley sighed, “So how about the Chuddley Cannons- ”

“Seriously Weasley.” Draco interrupted, “They’re the worst team in the League.”

“Hey, they’ve been showing a lot of improvement these past few months.”

Draco wasn’t stupid, he knew Weasley was trying to distract him and cheer him up. It was rather sweet of the other boy, especially when he hadn’t done anything wrong. It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t handle the truth about his father.

“Hey Weasley?”

“Yes?”

“…Thank you.”

“You’re welcome Malfoy. Ugh this probably means we should start calling each other by our first names or something, considering I’ve just seen you all covered in snot and whatnot.”

“Oh, piss off Ronald.”

“Ugh, never mind. I’ll take Weasley over Ronald any day.”

Draco couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped him, meeting Ronald’s easy grin with a small hesitant one of his own.

* * *

Draco let out an annoyed sighed, snapping his textbook shut with a loud _snap_. Raising an eyebrow and lifting his head to stare down the rest of the Slytherins who were eyeing him and his friends.

His hackles were rising, they weren’t in enemy territory per se but having every Slytherin’s eye on him and those he considered his wasn’t exactly reassuring. He really didn’t want to deal with them right now. His unforeseen panic attack had left him feeling exhausted. It wasn’t everyday one found out their father was a wannabe-murderer of children.

“May I help you all?”

It was silent for a few minutes before the Slytherins broke out into whispers and he tightened his grip on his book, nails slowly elongating. If it was a fight they wanted, it was a fight they’d get.

To his surprise, Goyle and Crabbe stepped up, both of them nudging the other to speak up before Goyle took the initiative, rubbing at his arm.

“Did you really kick the Dark Lord out of the Manor?”

“Of course I did.” Draco sniffed, “As if I’d allow that lousy excuse for a wizard to stay in my ancestral home after murdering my mother.”

“So, you’re the reason why your seats are burning. You really took over as head of both houses and reset the wards.”

“Correct.”

The two looked consideringly at each other.

“We-I want to be back on your side. I miss you.” Goyle stuttered out .

“We miss you. You also said you could protect us. We didn’t really believe you before but the papers.” Crabbe muttered.

As much as he wanted to Draco couldn’t blame them for not wanting to publicly align with him till he’d proven himself. He had spent the last six years using them as bodyguards and acting like well a coward.

“Just you two?” Draco raised an eyebrow.

At that, some other Slytherins jumped into action, clamoring for his attention. Apparently, news of his interaction with the Dark Lord and subsequent actions had gotten out among his fellow housemates.

There were still Slytherins who were aligning with the Dark Lord but the majority of them were choosing him. They were placing his faith in him and he wouldn’t let them down. He’d have to make more bracelets and at some point, talk to his house elves to start getting the safe houses prepared.

Draco would need to keep an eye on the Slytherins who had chosen to side with the Dark Lord. He was now officially on the radar and if the Dark Lord had given him a mission, who was to say that he hadn’t given anyone else a mission?

He also needed to get some sort of failsafe ready. Just because he was providing protection didn’t mean he was naive. No, if someone was going to be entering his safe-house he needed to make sure that they’d be unable to inform others about its whereabouts or harm the other occupants. Draco rubbed at his head, feeling a new headache coming on.

Merlin, he still had so much work to do. But he couldn’t, wouldn’t let them down, not when they were coming to him for protection.

“Alright.” Draco raised a hand, silencing his fellow housemates, “I will be vetting you lot with some assistance. If you want my protection, you’ll agree to my stipulations. Any protests and I’ll throw you out on your ass. Understood? Great, we’ll start tomorrow.”

With that last statement, Draco stalked upstairs, throwing himself on his bed. It felt like only a few minutes later when he felt the presence of his pack surrounding him and he snuggled into the closest source of heat. With his pack at his side, he was unstoppable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was always under the impression that Draco didn't really know what his father was up to. Like he suspected/knew he was part of the deatheaters but it didn't click till he met Voldemort, and even then he probably wasn't told of specific stuff his dad had done.
> 
> Let the drarry commence (why is this always the hard part of drarry fics actually getting them together)
> 
> Ron and Draco friendship ftw


End file.
